Untitled

I am Untitled,

don’t give me a name

because apparently I’m

never worth it.

I’m the kid at the back of

the class who tried to pick

grass but ended up with

his ass in the mud instead.

He hit his head

and you all thought it was

funny when he came in the

next day,

bandages in tow.

But you pushed him down

that slope of hurt,

and you didn’t think he was

worth your time.

You’d think I was a prisoner

the way I’m locked in here,

serving time for a broken

heart.

But you couldn’t even

look me in the eye

when you told me I

was ugly.

When you sentenced

my mind to

death,

and showed me how to

use a noose.

I am Untitled,

the way you pull at my

heart and start to call

me everything you can.

You’ve called me so much

that I’ve forgotten who

I am.

Whore.

Slut.

Bitch.

Ice queen. 

I used to scream at you

when you told me I was

a bitch,

because I spoke my mind.

But I locked away my voice

for a while,

and you tried to lure

it out,

but I didn’t fall for that.

I tried to shut up becuase

I was scared,

scared to hear the word.

You used to write it

on my back before you

stabbed me from behind.

I heard you whispering

it in the streets

and your sweet voice

makes me believe that its

fine

to call me names.

But you’ll never know

different, it will

always be the

same.

I’m just the Untitled,

better referred to as bitch,

because society has no

place for me.

 

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