I am Untitled,
don’t give me a name
because apparently I’m
never worth it.
I’m the kid at the back of
the class who tried to pick
grass but ended up with
his ass in the mud instead.
He hit his head
and you all thought it was
funny when he came in the
next day,
bandages in tow.
But you pushed him down
that slope of hurt,
and you didn’t think he was
worth your time.
You’d think I was a prisoner
the way I’m locked in here,
serving time for a broken
heart.
But you couldn’t even
look me in the eye
when you told me I
was ugly.
When you sentenced
my mind to
death,
and showed me how to
use a noose.
I am Untitled,
the way you pull at my
heart and start to call
me everything you can.
You’ve called me so much
that I’ve forgotten who
I am.
Whore.
Slut.
Bitch.
Ice queen.
I used to scream at you
when you told me I was
a bitch,
because I spoke my mind.
But I locked away my voice
for a while,
and you tried to lure
it out,
but I didn’t fall for that.
I tried to shut up becuase
I was scared,
scared to hear the word.
You used to write it
on my back before you
stabbed me from behind.
I heard you whispering
it in the streets
and your sweet voice
makes me believe that its
fine
to call me names.
But you’ll never know
different, it will
always be the
same.
I’m just the Untitled,
better referred to as bitch,
because society has no
place for me.
LegallyFierceFeminist 