Fuck What They Think

Fuck what they think.

I be sun kissed, crazy, wild flower child.

I be chocolate eating, ice cream loving, sweet,

Sweet lover.

Why should I care about the box that this world puts me in?

I be poking holes.

I be cutting doors and windows so to make your perception of me feel more, homey. 

I'm not worried about your rules for me. 

I be sitting my curves on the rules and 

Snapping them.

Ain't no standard big enough to handle me. 

I be struggle. Be this is too, too hard.

Be I can't handle two siblings on my own.

Be what's for dinner tonight?

Be empty fridge.

Be sun kissed faces looking up at me with hungry eyes.

Be food stamps.

I am BETTER than this.

I be beautiful.

I be thick even though THEY SAY it is socially unnacteptable.

I be walking into rooms and making others uncomfortable.

I be defined.

I be defined.


As immaculate, and nothing less.


This poem is about: 
My family


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