Author: Samurai-Soldier PM
Who is a person when their identity is sex, drugs, paranoia, and the internet? Is she really as alone as she makes herself?Rated: Fiction M - English - Angst/Drama - Words: 398 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Published: 03-26-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2651915
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She was this little girl,
This sex and drug abusing little girl
Whose world revolved around paranoia and others,
You wouldn't know her.
She craved the approval of others
But never found any in herself
Ultimately dooming her to inadequacy,
You wouldn't know her.
She had sex because she felt alive,
Felt in love,
Felt that it distracted her from her own self loathing,
Distracted her from her beatings.
Her man was nineteen,
She, only sixteen,
And yet they found themselves hardly ever clothed,
And hardly ever apart.
Over the internet she lived their life,
More focused with those chat rooms offering friendship
From an anonymous face who promised her love and understanding.
"Why wouldn't GorePimp20 understand me?"
She took pictures of herself like crazy on Facebook,
Never left Myspace alone for five minutes,
And found a strange peace in being hit on by people she'd never see,
Maybe it was the clear frogs that clung to her ceiling,
Maybe it was the Liger, stalking her from underneath her bed,
Maybe it was the paranoia, maybe it was the drugs,
But she could never handle herself alone,
Away from her boyfriend and the internet
Everyone's out to get her,
Out to get me and them,
Out to make sexual comments over her breasts.
That's only aloud on Facebook.
Only on Myspace.
Everyone could see her.
Their heads were turned away,
But they could see her.
In their minds they were seeing her,
Thinking about her,
Thinking about her
Smelling the whine on her breath,
Hearing the ecstasy pumping through her veins.
Is this your ecstasy little girl?
Is this what you're trying to escape to?
Is this all so much better than growing up and becoming a woman?
No I don't understand you,
Don't know the crap you've been through,
Don't know your troubles.
But get over yourself,
You made them yourself,
You bred them yourself,
Into the real troubles they are now.
Maybe it was your parents,
Maybe it was your peers,
Maybe it was yourself,
The "need" for love.
Now that your dead,
All that's left is to grow up,
There is a woman somewhere in that twitchy mind,
But you wouldn't know her.