When I was young I promised myself that when I grew up and got hot, If I ever got cat-called, I would react. I would scream, Kick the bumper of their car, Throw my overpriced drink in their face, Be angry be ******, Take no **** from anyone who dared to look at me.
I grew up. I'm not hot, I'm okay enough to look at, Okay enough to earn the attention of two middle aged children in a ****** silver four door car. I promised myself I would react.
I froze. Took another faulty step Felt my ankle struggle under the weight The ends of my pants brushing my toes Blood rising to my face. Not a blush. I was not flattered. An inferno. My mind in flames. The heat trapped by my mouth Glued shut by $20 lipstick from a brand owned by someone who hates what I am.
Didn't I promise myself? I didn't react. Hardly moved a muscle. Too slow to even furrow my manicured eyebrows in rage.
I know now That the world will always be cruel. And the world will always think I'm Hot Beautiful **** Cute Attractive
So what good is having my own pretty face When everyone else thinks that it's theirs? Nobody will ever own me Not even myself.