I’m a bliss coach
I’m a tantric practitioner
I’m a sex educator
But here in this room.
?I’m just a girl!
I’m stock full of emotions. Insecurities. Nuances to be learned. And barriers to break down
I’m not some superhuman sexual machine
I’m not emotionless in my sexing
I’m not in the “perfect” body (whatever TF that is)
?I’m just a girl!
I’m the person that loves hard and deep and has always come out the other side the loser.
?I’m just a girl…
The one that you leave to hold down the fort. “The only sane one in this house”. To wait. To tremble. To wonder why you’re never here. Never care and when you’re here I’m never your priority. To wonder why I’m never enough in your eyes and always second.
?I’m just a girl…
I’m the girl that you stole her most precious gift and walked away. No phone call. No text. Just me on my shower floor trying to wash the feeling away. Wondering if I could ever be whole. Wondering why I’m so unlovable. Wondering if I made the whole event up. The virgin calling herself a whore.
?I’m just a girl…
The one that you use and throw away. Again, and again, and again. The one that I finally gave myself too. The one that is never enough for you. That doesn’t relax enough. That isn’t sexy enough. That is too emotional. The one you use to get your rocks off but is just a piece of meat. The one you look down on. The one that you never dig deeper with.
?I’m just a girl….
The one that you hold down. You push. You force. You hurt. The one that you don’t hear her screams. Then one that will always blame herself. The one that has been in this situation too many times to count.
?I’m just a girl…
The one that you opened a world of pleasure too. The one that doesn’t believe she is worth this pleasure. The one that you fuck while closing your eyes and fantasizing over someone else. The one that’s actually incredibly cool with that… until you tear her heart out with one text. The one that will always be reaching for that level of surrender.
?I’m just a girl….
The one that you leave bleeding, saying you’re sorry, you didn’t mean it but obviously not sorry enough. I’m just young entertainment. I’m just a follower in your eyes. I just set my boundaries because of others influence. Not able to make any decision in your eyes. You think I’m jealous but that’s not the truth. I’m just wanting to be desired and not compared. You think I’m this and think I’m that but what I am is…
?I’m just a girl….
The one that is pretty. And sweet. But always missing that extra “something”. The one without depth based upon my young face, and your presumption of my life experiences. The one that was fun a few times but that will always be runner up.
?I’m just a girl…
The one that loves sex. The one that desires you to fuck her open. The one you run from with one simple two phrase statement. The one that you will leave her heart scarred from even a few dates. The one that will always wonder…why? Where did I go wrong?
I’m a bliss coach
I’m a tantric practitioner
I’m a sex educator
But here in this room.
?I’m just a girl!
I’m just a girl laying down with her heart on her sleeve. Praying that you too aren’t going to tear me open. The girl with a shit load of baggage. The one that has never felt good enough. The one that just craves love, attention, and to be seen. The one that has always been used and thrown away. The stupid one that believed. Believed in something more.
The one that still believes.
Still sees the beauty.
Still learned the lessons.
The one that won’t harden her heart.
The one laying here naked. Desiring. Open. Hoping.
?I’m just a girl!
