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Bull

poem

By Ruby RedPublished 8 months ago 1 min read
Bull
Photo by Richard Gatley on Unsplash

I can now be that girl

Where the others will sit in my lap

And let me play with their hair.

I can now comment on my friend's fishtail braid

And laugh because I could never nail the "aesthetic"

When in actual fact it was only ever my mum I could practise on.

I don't have the appearance of the gritty, stubborn bull.

But don't mess with me;

Don't mess with me.

You see the brutality of the life I've lived is hardening,

The layered armor of indifference is only a distraction.

I am now the motherly figure who is a friend up at 3am too.

I'll listen, always

Since no one ever came and listened to me.

I'll defend every flaw, imperfection and emotion you feel

Because I wanted that many times myself.

Don't think that this brutality, the hardness is all I have.

If I open up I will show you how raw I really am inside

I will let you in because I want to heal all the things I hide.

This is the way that I am today,

When I catch your glances in the hallway

I want you to think of the friend you see in me.

And know everything I didn't have when I needed it;

Is who I spend every single second

Striving to be.

~

Free Versesocial commentaryStream of ConsciousnessFriendship

About the Creator

Ruby Red

Heya friend, I'm Red!

I write poetry, so subscribe for a hint of vulnerability, some honesty and the occasional glimpse behind my mask 🌱

Taking a break from Vocal; focusing on my anthology 🫶💖

AI is not art.

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Comments (1)

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  • ShadowBladeDemon8 months ago

    good

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