Slut Shamers

Were I given five minutes to live, do you think I’d give a damn what you think of me, kid?

Swear to God I’m
not being
defensive
but how’s this
for a poem with
a steadfast message?

Always be yourself, kicking ass and taking names. Always keep the faith. They’ll break your bones with words and sometimes they’ll bring stones.

But for however
many times they slut
shamed,
defamed or rained on
your fucking parade,
brought
switchblades to
conversations
or hit you like
a freight train,

they’ve crafted a stronger version of you to step into bigger shoes than their pea-sized personalities can fathom.

You’ll always outlast
them as massive egos tend
to drag their owners down.

You wouldn’t let multiple dicks screw you-
well, maybe you would, it’s possible I’m
a prude- but if it’s
true to whom
you are, then to I say
to hell with your critics.

What are
they going to do-
write you a ticket?

Not even the
police could
make me pay.

Not even my
parents could
convince me to

change.

I’m a bastard child to
the end, no matter what
you think

or say.

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11 thoughts on “Slut Shamers

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