It’s all real how not only society but my community view me because I swear when I go outside people really act like they know me. As I walk down the street this what every one see’s.
   Light skin, skinny, curly hair “oh she must be c***y thinkin she all that, she aint better than none of here.” Is what they say and think but to keep this imperfectly real f*** them and their opinions.
Because they don’t know half the s*** I’ve been through. Oh I thought you knew that I once lived in the projects where my mother was only in her 20s and was scared to let me outside because in Brownsville everyone seems to get shot up and die.
   Damn I remember it like it was yesterday what could I say? Daddy was gone and mommy was alone so where else could she possibly stay? I had no daddy he never came back. He told me lies on the phone thou and those lies were like crack.
   I was addicted in every sense of the way, Itchin and scratchin for my next fix. I was ready to sacrifice any and everybody to get the s***  until I lived with the ass hole and then I wanted to run away. From the physical and emotional abuse. I still remember every single bruise that I had to cover up. And the bruises that I couldn’t cover was stuck in my head.
  I still remember all the f***ed up s*** he said. But its alright because I moved on. Deep down I still had a lot of insecurities and scars. I hated my skinny little body I saw it as ugly so my insecurities took a razor and started to cut me.
  All over my arm but the one thing that stayed was one word that was planted in my head but now that insecurity is dead. I thought you knew since you strut around like you do but as I said in the beginning of this poem f*** you and your opinions because you don’t know s*** about me or what I’ve been through.