It’s a Grand F*** You

◦ I don’t know

◦ How to be your girl

◦ It makes me panic

◦ My mind runs slow

◦ Should I bake

◦ Tell your Mom I like her cooking

◦ Spend my money

◦ Impressing strangers

◦ Instead of having fun

◦ Even if it’s dangerous

◦ I think my worst fears

◦ Are wrapped up in kitchen

◦ Sinks

◦ Don’t want to be that girl

◦ That never thinks about

◦ Anything but you

◦ Anything but you

◦ So I know it’s my fault

◦ When I fall

◦ Get into a relationship

◦ And forget I can say no

◦ But I don’t know when the pattern

◦ Starts

◦ What draws me to you

◦ What makes me hurt

◦ I feel like I’m dying

◦ My face paler than usual

◦ I’m putting up weight

◦ Stress eating as usual

◦ You compliment me on

◦ Days I look thin

◦ It makes me feel like shit

◦ Like you can’t see it’s a cage

◦ I’m in

◦ I wanted a protector

◦ Does one even exist

◦ It’s hard to feel real

◦ When you reduce yourself

◦ To this

◦ Concept of feminity

◦ That should have died along with

◦ The rigidity of societies that held

◦ No space for difference

◦ That became spaces of indifference

◦ And I hate that you compliment me

◦ When I’ve said nothing real

◦ You say I’m intense

◦ When I’m barely concealing

◦ The part of my heart that runs

◦ In the dark

◦ Wants to sink into someone else’s

◦ Heart

◦ Because yours

◦ Gives all its weight to me

◦ And you think that sounds romantic

◦ But it’s dodging self-responsibility

◦ Go fuck the girls you tell me about

◦ If you want a side piece let her help me out

◦ If she’s taking your d***

◦ She can take your sh*t, too

◦ Sweetheart, this isn’t a love poem

◦ It’s a grand F*** you.

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