I am not the girl
who needs a guy,
and I certainly won’t cry
when you tell me you moved
on.
I am not the girl who
has a twisted past that needs
fixing,
and sewing back up.
I am not the girl who
needs your love,
I don’t need anything from
you.
And I’m sorry if that hurts you,
but I knew you liked her before
I caught you both in our
bed.
She asked who I was,
and I told her that she looked bad
at giving head.
I am not the girl who
cares about you,
I’m glad you’re in the past.
I am *not* the girl who
sticks around,
who takes your shit,
that doesn’t fit well with me.
I couldn’t understand why
you told me about her,
I didn’t care.
I am not the girl who wants
your advice,
I wear big girl pants now.
I am not the girl who tries
to be someone I’m not.
I’ve been called a bitch more times
than I care to remember,
and I recall that you
called me it last September,
but you thought it was a joke.
I am not the girl who
will take crap from any
‘bloke’
and listen to your misogynistic
views.
It doesn’t amuse me,
it isn’t ‘banter’.
I am not the girl who wants to be
in the spotlight,
I’ve never wanted that.
I am not the girl who you thought
I was,
but you were not the guy I
thought you were, either.