|Moving forward America, moving forward.|
Truthfully, I am only me.|
There is no other. It’s just me. And who I am is who I always will be. I’m quiet and shy and curled in a corner. When I talk I’m loud and obnoxious, I stutter and stumble, I never think about how others would take my words, even when I filter them. I try and make jokes and be outrageous and fun. No one laughs, no one smiles. They just find me rude and insensitive, even when their not my conversation partner. I’m sorry I’m not perfect. I’m sorry I won’t say what’s wrong. I’m sorry for not being thin or pretty. I’m sorry I dress the way I do, because it’s comfortable not showing half my ass. I’m sorry I don’t drink starbucks or idolize my phone. I’m sorry for being a nerd. I’m sorry I’m still here, alive and well. I’m sorry I can’t die when you glare at me. I’m sorry I’m who I am. But that’s a lie. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry you hate me. I’m not sorry I’m fat or unpopular. I’m not sorry no one likes me. I’m not sorry I can’t think before acting. I’m not sorry for my language or my tastes. I’m not sorry my ipod is filled with love songs and Eminem rap. I’m not sorry I like yaoi and draw hourglass women. I’m not sorry I like horror games and can’t stand drama series. I’m not sorry I take hypothetical literal or how I get emotional when people describe the future for me. I’m not sorry for you hating me. Because guess what, everyone does. I dress in darks and jeans, when everyone else wears seasons and short skirts. I’m not interested in a gender, I don’t need someone else’s problems on my chest. You can keep your favorite flashy feathers, you parakeet partridges. I’ll keep my rainbow boa snake scales. I’m no charming cobress, I’m too angry high class white brass. I’m too high in the sky to be a vemoned viper. I’m looking down on those thinking their so fly, getting high on cocaine and moonshine. I’m the dragon with no fire power, I’m the one hiding in the clouds watching all those who can’t take their heads out of their own asses. Those who inflate their egos on the pedophiles and perverts praise after tweeting naked pics and selfie shit. I’m the hate girl of the pin up figure-eight world. And guess what, I’m not sorry, I’m not sorry for my voice or if you hate my opinion. It’s my voice I have the right to say my piece, but you don’t have the right to break me down with your coffee cooked American sheltered dumbass. So if you have something to say, be prepared for this iridescent dragon’s tongue whiplash.
Because guess what.
I’m not sorry.
I’m just being the true me.