I like her

http://kimbolacity.blogspot.com/

I'm that girl

It was hard for me to give him his space; not to call him in the middle of the night when I cried myself to sleep, not to ask him "Are you SURE this is what you want?" or "Why don't you love me anymore?"

I was desperate not to be "that girl." You know the one. The one who can't take a hint. The one who won't leave him alone. The one he's so glad that he finally got rid of. I couldn't be her. Wouldn't.

A Reading from The Book of Tia.

Grocery Shopping (or What I Thought About)

We were grocery shopping at three in the morning
for purple Kool-Aid and a pregnancy test.
I couldn't watch you sleep anymore
And K was revisiting some saccharine childhood craving.
It’s weird how things turn out sometimes.
Like the first time I sat in a Planned Parenthood at 15
wondering how I became “that kind of girl.”
Not knowing where I stand with you makes it worse.
Even though your tongue drips honey coated lies
drips baby I love yous
drips bullshit about your half-assed ambitions
drips sweet silly talk about a future that’ll never be ours.
Complicating it further is that girl we don’t talk about.
Your sixteen year old white trash baby doll lover
whose name is a bad word with your family
after she got you in fights
and in debt
and arrested.
You love her too? Great, good for you.
Lately you've been loving her long-distance from my bed
making me wonder who you’re really thinking of when the lights are out.
But the little girl in me says
please don’t leave me...just hold me a little longer.
And the insecure, quiet teenager in me says
maybe this is as good as it gets.
And the practical college student in me says
I don’t need your broke, going nowhere, out of work, lazy ass.
And the tattooed punk rock band slut in me says
Baby, you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone so you’d better enjoy it while you've got it.
You owe me three hundred dollars
and you’re sleeping with someone else
and yet I keep coming back.
Because I feel like slumming?
Because I need some work done on my car?
Or maybe because I hate to feel alone.
The fluorescent grocery store lights hurt my eyes
and nothing will be decided tonight.
Three in the morning has come and gone
here in the frozen food section.
So my body is coming home to you,
but no one touches my soul,
and my pride I left back on aisle five.