Stick Em On

Groovypotato

So many problems with our society’s people today. You see, people like to label other people based off of what they eat, what they drink, their appearance, who they date, income, intelligence, education etcetera. I do not wanna be classified as “that tall black girl” because I'm...well tall and black, we have names for a reason people!  DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE STEREOTYPES THAT GO ALONG WITH THE LABELS! I’m not a chicken and grape Kool Aid lover because my melanin is through the roof. I have one question. Do you guys eat foods that originate from other ethnicities or cultures? I mean I may not be Chinese or Italian but I'll sure as heck still eat both Chinese and Italian food as long as America remains a “free country”. Why is it that native Americans have to be classified as “basic” because they drink Starbucks and wear giant Ugg boots? Why can't we just enjoy what we love without being classified or label as something irrelevant or inaccurate. I am not ignorant because a small portion of my race weren't thinking about their actions. I have zero control of what others do or how others behave. I am not ghetto because sometimes I laugh loud and proud at what I find funny. I am not a know it all for speaking my mind and not being afraid to take a stand for what I believe in. I am not weird because I’m not afraid to be my own kind of me. And just because I'm a teen does not mean that I'm inexperienced. Lets look from another perspective. High school female student. She's in a school full of toxic judgemental kids. Rumors flying around like a contagious virus. Rumors turn into new labels write em down and stick em on. She sits in the mirror and wonder if she’s enough for this world because so many people have trampled all over her like a muddy doormat. The kids bully her and make fun of her because deep inside they know that she’s absolutely beautiful. she's so beautiful that she could make a rose sprout with the glance of her crisp golden eyes. The insecurities set in whenever she walks in the room. She acted as if everything was ok and she smiled through everything. Little did they know that she cries herself to sleep because she thinks she's not enough...all because she was called a slut. All because she was pushed down the stairs. All because of that long necked butt wipe who took her women hood without her consent. Because they have taken her imperfections and built big brick walls around her. Having all of her imperfections thrown at her from wall to wall. She's no longer a leader she's a follower. She does whatever other girls do she wears whatever other girls wear. She cakes her face up to hide her true beauty within. All she wanted was to be beautiful. All she wanted was to fit in. All she wanted was to be happy. All she wanted...was real love. She tries to find love but she's only put down and mistreated and the whole process is repeated repeated repeated. And soon...she's left right back where she started behind that mirror broken hearted staring at her reflection filled with lies and pain. Leaving permanent hatred on her beautiful skin. Her eyes turn into dark grey titanium tombs whispering and begging for mercy. Growing up with daddy issues and hands full of snotty tissues because daddy is never home. She comes to school taking happy pills to make it all better. One... two...three too many. She can feel her body going numb,numb,numb. Still stuck in the center of these brick walls inhaling every negative comment she's been given,still feeling her body getting numb numb numb. Slowly losing air. Not saying a single word yet still her body going numb numb numb. She can taste the taste of freedom and happiness numnumnum. Soon awaking in hospital bed but now she’s breathing differently. She’s breathing in something different from what she had breathed before. The fallen soldier has gotten up. She’s inhaling something she hasn’t inhaled in such a long time. She’s feeling something she hasn’t felt in a long time. The other half of her body has awakened once again. She now inhales positivity and peace. The walls have now collapsed and a whole new world is now present. She now knows that she is her own kind of beautiful. She is loved. She does not need to fit in. she does not have love but when love kicks her in the face she will know and she will be ready.  She no longer lets ignorance or irrelevance get in her way. She peels the labels that she once thought could never be removed off of her beautiful skin and she leaves the hospital stronger than she enters never to return.

 

  • Author: T.latrice (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: December 2nd, 2017 02:02
  • Comment from author about the poem: Any thoughts?
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 15
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Comments1

  • Tony36

    Great write

    • Groovypotato

      Thank you so much!

      • Tony36

        Welcome



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