re-post from march ! "prayer for the paper"

media & cigarettes are synonymous .
poor little tiana . she wakes up drowing in audio floods of breast enhancement deals . with crust in her eyes & scarf on her head she looks into the mirror . glass doesnt need to be shattered to cut . it takes a soldier to see one's beauty in a battle of negativy .
so back to tiana:
she walks down the street to Insecurity High School [off of melrose btw] . She lifts her head & see's dollar signs in the clouds . money might as well be there, she knows it aint in her pocket . she steps in somethin, bullshxt . girls with sandyblonde hair & prada shades plague her while in class . she looks to her left , unaffordable uggs . she looks to her right, dolce&gabbana handbags that whisper snickers and laughter . Tiana turns on her ipod to block the baracade of pain . "money....blah blah...honey with the long hair & light skin...blah blah...ten drinks at the bar...blah blah...car with rims....". she cant escape the poison .

beyonce in leotards & heels . ciara in a mid-drift & sweats . those spandex tight girls in the dream's video . keri hilsons legs .ashanti's weave . okay, not ashanti's weave .

.. middle finger to the people who think they can tell me what i am . middle finger to the bastards who try to convince me that im not skinny enough, thick enough, light enough, that my hair is long, that my booty isnt big, that im flat chested, that im not sexy enough, that im too smart, that im not thee epitome of who i want & need to be . psh, who the f*ck are you anyway ?

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