Some words of men

he said he can give back something he took

love? i have some of that in a little bag hidden under my bed at home

his shaky fingers fail at writting my name on the imaginary board

not because he doesnt know it,

but because he never bothered at learning to spell it

he hesitates, as if im a bet and not a woman,

and his breath smells like rum

all of this i think i dreamt when i was seventeen

during springbreak

in a cold plain black room

without socks on and a little shirt covering my back 

i hide from men like they carry weapons on them all the time

i avoid walking past them and smile

i seem sweet because thats how i was thaught to be around people,

not them, but everyone, as long as my mom is around

so i stare at his eyes in confussion, because they seem so sure of themselves

even when hes about to fail

hes aware he can always try

hes a god and hes never done anything to reach such a high in life

but me i feel embarrased

cause a misstep in heels is an act to laugh about

and will burn my skin in bed afterwards 

if i cant walk how will i run?

its hard, being pretty, smart, lovable, gentle, nice, happy, accomplished, put together

is hard being without coming off as harsh

and so he misspells my name

and i look into his soul expecting some kind of regret but hes not even thinking about it anymore

he only wants more rum

a bottle is over me in the scale

im the loser and im only a girl

i dont flinch at the name he has given me

i take it, with shame but still smile while a walk in my heels without tripping and im trying to keep my posture so the wont talk about me or my mispelled lies

only about rum and how good it tastes

how they want more

how there are others that are better but they are back home

im still a girl, a different one from the one a few lines before

i still dont flinch and im still a loser against rum