this post is for my friend . she knows who she is . do NOT feel inadequate just because he thought with his 'little head' . youre a queen and you need a man who looks at you like the eighth wonder of the world . i know how it goes, and you will bounce back .
"she had long blue nails and her skin was bad ."
that's all a girl can think about when it happens to her .
all she can think is, ". . . but her streaks make her hair look dirty" . . . at least, that's all she can think at first . by the third hour, however, she wishes that was the only thought that replayed in her mind . like a tsunami, other thoughts & feelings crash onto the shores of her mind & heart , causing devastation .
girls replay the face in their head ... over and over . wondering: why ? what happened ? and the bullet that should never be in her brain, "is it me?" it feels like her heart is being punched over and over . normally, she could move to avoid the punches, but how does she stop something that's happening inside her skin ? all of a sudden, it seems as if those blue acrylic nails were the scratches and blemishes in her relationship . those blue acrylic nails are scraping her heart .
then the burns begin . that is all a girl can feel on day 2 . a hot , third degree burn of humiliation . calling herself, "stupid" over and over in her head until it numbs the presence of her confidence . She looks in the mirror and sees the "stupid girl" that people gossip about . The last thing a girl wants to be is the "stupid girl" . she wore her heart on her sleeve and everyone [but her] saw him use her heart as a stepping stool . a stepping stool to reach the 'dirty haired girls' window ...
that damn skin . those damn nails . that damn skin . mm, those damn streaks . replay, replay .
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"she had long blue nails and her skin was bad ."
that's all a girl can think about when it happens to her .
all she can think is, ". . . but her streaks make her hair look dirty" . . . at least, that's all she can think at first . by the third hour, however, she wishes that was the only thought that replayed in her mind . like a tsunami, other thoughts & feelings crash onto the shores of her mind & heart , causing devastation .
girls replay the face in their head ... over and over . wondering: why ? what happened ? and the bullet that should never be in her brain, "is it me?" it feels like her heart is being punched over and over . normally, she could move to avoid the punches, but how does she stop something that's happening inside her skin ? all of a sudden, it seems as if those blue acrylic nails were the scratches and blemishes in her relationship . those blue acrylic nails are scraping her heart .
then the burns begin . that is all a girl can feel on day 2 . a hot , third degree burn of humiliation . calling herself, "stupid" over and over in her head until it numbs the presence of her confidence . She looks in the mirror and sees the "stupid girl" that people gossip about . The last thing a girl wants to be is the "stupid girl" . she wore her heart on her sleeve and everyone [but her] saw him use her heart as a stepping stool . a stepping stool to reach the 'dirty haired girls' window ...
that damn skin . those damn nails . that damn skin . mm, those damn streaks . replay, replay .
------------
hurt . hurt . pain . hurt . a russion roulette with large & bitesize bullets
to my friend, you'll be okay... i promise i have been there: http://steviwonderwoman.blogspot.com/2009/05/contentment.html
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