I may be young, but I know what bullshit is
I know what it looks like
I know what it sounds like
And I know what it smells like
I'm not to young to know what bullshit is and how to define it.
Did you know,
Cigarettes taste like coffee,
The kind I drink at night,
When the dark keeps me awake.
And poetry feels like salvation,
Specially when it doesn't rhyme.
That headaches are the best thing that can happen to you,
When you're awake.
And sleep is a just a lie life tells you.
But you believe it,
Because it's the best fucking lie you'll ever hear.
but beauty doesn't lie in the eyes of the beholder,
It lies in it's extraction from the bullshit.
I simply can not with the hopelessly romantic bullshit that I continuously subject myself to
It incessantly picks at the self professed pragmatism that I so pride myself with
It eats away at the wall of, "I am strong Black woman who don't need no man"
It jeers at the tub of vaseline by my bed and the smell of pussy on my fingers
It claws at the parts of my identity who refuses to lose weight or to conform to some caricature of who I refuse to be
It makes my entire ass tired
I can not shake this hopelessly romantic bullshit feeling in the pit of my stomach that seeks to undermine my accomplishments by making me feel less than for lacking a partner
Unless your are going to pay my bills hopelessly romantic bullshit feeling
I need you get the the fuck out
And get the fuck on
Because, denial worked for me yesterday so it damn well better work today
People on that bullshit
Still talking that bullshit
They got a lot to say but it's bullshit
It don't matter anyway because it's bullshit
I hear it but it sounds like bullshit
What were you saying? That's right bullshit
Saying I'm a liar and a hypocrite
And maybe I am a little bit
But you still talking that bullshit