When I was a teenager, my family passed me around like a hot potato – no one wanted me. At 16 years old, I was kicked out and faced with two choices – to sink or to swim. I chose to swim, meaning I got a job, supported myself, and stayed in school. I was independent in every sense, except when it came to relationships. Childhood trauma had manifesting into a nasty case of long-term codependency, which you can read about here.
In 2014, my mom died around the same time that my husband’s mask fell off, revealing the monster that he was all along, which you can read about in this article I wrote, “Dear Vice, Thanks for Ruining My Marriage.”
This poem is about breaking free from that marriage, which I have also written about in this story called, “Homeless and Happy.”
That one time I rapped
This pain isn’t what it seems
It’s here to push you
Get strong, train hard, proud scars
Chase the dream
It changes shape, but don’t let it escape
Turn a mind full of hate into a will to create
A life that’s great
Prosper, stand tall, work hard, play harder
Get smarter
Use it or lose it
Sweat, make bets, take zero muther fuckin’ threats
Arm up, laugh it off
Jump off cliffs and land in water
Just another day doing it my muther fuckin’ way
Where every day is independence day
Don’t ever say I don’t pay my own way
I lived in government housing
When I was 17, earning green
Paying the woman who lived there for free
Chased by fight dogs on my BMX
Dressed like a guy, so I wasn’t a target for rape sex
My skate crew would push ’till mad late
Ripping through gangs that eat and breathe hate
Don’t tell me where I can and can’t skate
I pay taxes, muther fucker, appreciate (haha)
Put myself through school
Played by most the rules
Bite the bullet, because that’s what you have to do
You say I’m “Out of control?”
Yeah, out of your control, full throttle
I might be sugar and spice
But, I ain’t that fucking nice
What is it about my face that says, “Play me?”
What is it about this place that’s too lame for me?
Before I bounce, I demand your mama pays me
Because I don’t work for free, but I’m sitting a baby
It’s supposed to be boys to men, not boys to boys
You’re fucking insane treating real women like toys
Real women – we pack heat and get sleep – solo
Make money and buy things – solo
We train hard but don’t fight in bars
‘Cuz that’s weak
I take it to the ring if you know what I mean
Blood wrestle girls go hard, and they mean it
Bikini car wash, until sundown, cleanin’ it
You hate because you can’t relate
You say it’s wrong
Go ahead and tame me, see how last you long
Oh, shit I fucked up my song!