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coqueta May 3
My feelings so big they overwhelm me
Till my body feels little and I can’t breathe
I just curl up and feel feel feel
Heart so full of love, of sadness
melancholy, baby, no one to share it with

why wasn’t i beautiful when i was twelve? why didn’t
the boys wanna peek under my skirt?
now im seventeen and im ugly and old
who will want me
still havent tasted love’s first kiss and
he says he doesn’t like big grown up girls anyways
im seventeen and the boys keep peeking under my skirts
and my cheeks keep flushing with anger, humiliation
but mostly validation
because it feels so good to be wanted
seventeen and no license, no friends
the closer i get to eighteen, the more I feel my youth decay
it’s a horrible feeling, living on borrowed time
knowing i didn’t enjoy the time I had
what goods a girl if no one wants her anyhow?
A reflection on the impending end of my childhood
coqueta Apr 30
I’m angry with you. I’m tired of you. I’m tired of feeling so small and disregarded. You’re so big. You use your size to stomp me into submission. You’re a bully. The little get picked on and the rebellious are punished. The hate bubbles up in my throat and I become exhausted.

I wish I was seven feet tall and if anyone dared talk back to me I’d beat them till they shut up. I’d scream at them and smack them over the head and if they cry it’s their fault and they deserve more. Like you. I hate it when you scream and even more than that I hate that you can’t admit your faults and refuse to grow up. There’s no light in your eyes, no brightness in your heart, and your soul remains dull and ugly. I pray God forgives you, and I pray He gives me the ability to forgive you too.
Abuse has the ability to breed a lot of hatred in people, and I think that’s forgotten in favor of painting us like pitiful victims. We’re bitter and angry too, and undoing the hatred that was gifted to us by our abuser is a lot of work.
coqueta Apr 30
Your smell is home before anything else is, even if you aren’t anymore
You’re like an old shirt from middle school, I just don’t fit into your arms, and maybe it’s because we’ve long outgrown each other and yet,
The silence between us is comfortable like it once was(but some of the pauses are so so suffocating)
We slip right into old patterns, and you smell like you did four years ago
the gap between your teeth is the same
so is your smile
i forget all our old jokes, but you remember
so maybe it’s just me
outgrowing you
and that thought hurts so much more
More than the brief hesitation before we hugged good bye, then the ease with which I tell you I love you more than anything anything because you know me and I know our old jokes I promise I do, I remember the results you got on those silly personality quizzes and that you’re a Capricorn you act just like one all your awkward giggles and thoughtful silences and of course of course I know you I’ve known you so long, it’s just I might have forgotten during one of the gaps but who knows when we’ll next see each other? If I’ll forget again and leave you lonely ? If things will ever be the same between us and we can walk down halls together, feet not in sync cuz you were always so much taller (but did you know I seek you out in every new person I meet and they never compare never) giggles echoing off the school walls, will I love you like I did before? Will you still love me after all I’ve put you through?
I feel as though my poems have gotten a lot more stream of consciousness over the year vs my usual structured ones and kinda like it
coqueta Mar 23
A girls beauty only exists as an extant form of a decay
The ****** gets down on her knees to pray
that God delivers her a good good man
to come, and demand, for her hand in marriage
A girls beauty will never exist as long as her lips haven’t tasted true love’s kiss
her legs are long and bare and
her face is rosy, fair
and that silky hair can be wound around his rough calloused fingers
The beauty of girlhood is being used
Desiring love and being pursued
And if he doesn’t think I’m beautiful? Do I have any worth at all?
Lost innocence is a beauty (a sweet sweet tragedy) so utterly unattainable, (only for those girls with their blue bell eyes and their waif-ish thighs) I’m left to wonder
am I even a woman
at all?
coqueta Mar 1
the sting of first love felt a million times over
i lay in my bed and dream you’re my lover
pluck all the leaves off a  four-leafed clover
so unlucky in love and ill never recover because
i stand in my feelings as they pool to my chin
i stand, and i wallow, and i never give in
unwavering heart, never worn on my sleeve
if i say how I feel, sweet boy, would you leave?
heart has fallen a million times
love has been given over a million lives
that childishly innocent rush
of a sweet school girl crush
tug my hair behind my ear and i feel my face flush
over and over and over
my feet are glued to the floor, and i simply do not have the courage to move forward
consider this a rough draft
coqueta Feb 11
Girls as sweet as cream, as pastries
wispy, airy, baby fairy
Weeping girls with their lovely flushed cheeks
I stand before you and my knees grow weak
I stand before you, and my soul grows meek
Do you see my heart shatter like a dropped antique?
Cuz I’m small, but not dainty
Small, not faint of heart
too loud, too much, not enough and I know
You’d much better love a girl as sweet as apple ****
Cuz how can I be your Ophelia when my tragedy isn’t piteous?
and how could I be worth loving
if my body is so, so hideous?
Or if my lips aren’t kissable? My heart not worth devouring?
What beauty does a young girl have if she’s not worth deflowering?
The delicate fragility of white girlhood feels so unattainable, and yet, I long to be seen as desirable in the way they are.
coqueta May 2021
So little, so fragile
Sweet pretty girl
Slender thighs
Big doe eyes
and long silky curls
that fall to an itty bitty waist
I wish to be that small and cute
and hardly take up space

Yes, I wish my body were so small
that I’d collapse into myself
and disappear
I’d fit into your world, I’d fit into your pocket
So tiny you could set me in a locket and carry
me close to your breast
Perhaps, if I look like a girl
You’d finally see me as woman
Then I could see myself as one too
and the world would think I’m lovely

Delicate princess, angelita
Say I’m your little ******
I’m sensitive you know
So love me gently (you never do)
i wish my appearance didn’t prevent me from being seen as delicate or fragile or small
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