weak girl

I like to think I'm special      different
      that I can look down on those weak girls
            who beg men to lift them up
            who let men break them down
but it's easy to say you love the rain
if you have a warm, dry bed to go to
                        when the thunder starts

weak girl, you let a man's words come out of your mouth
               you let a man paint monsters on your mirror
no, it's different, I'm different
      men paint monsters on my mirror, but the monsters scrape off
            someone comes to scrape them off
                  another man comes to scrape them off
                  and paint flowers instead
                  he always comes
but it's different, I'm different
I like to think I'm special

Inspired by "Chapter 1: Hookups that Fell Down" from Laid. I didn't intend to write any other poems to promote the book, but this chapter actually genuinely affected me.