you didn't count on the last of the a*******
the last of the lineage, a long c**mination of
your college ex boyfriends, the guys in that crust band,
the internet creeps, and your grandma's opinions.
you didn't count on the last of the a*******,
because you didn't count on letting anyone in.
after the one you thought would be the last of the a*******
you swore you'd never let em under your skin again.
it's a jarring sensation when you've fallen under
and a mix up of anger and shame and embarrassment
is the pain that just compounds, and comes back to haunt you
when you find that you've made the mistake of believing in
the stories you tell yourself about how it won't happen
and the courage you earned and then all your self-confidence
it drains when you've waved off what you'd thought was the last of them,
to find that the next one had just gotten in again.
and when it happens again, where will you be?
what will you do if it happens to you and your whole life
you'd be subject to that shame and embarrassment
over and over again? and even if it thickens your skin
you'd be left with the lingering question of "when would you ever trust again?"
but you didn't count on the last of the a*******.
the last of the a******* standing outside the metro,
but he hollered and called and he said "show she me a smile, girl,"
and followed you home when you said "you can go f*** yourself,"
you didn't count on all the incessant comments.
you didn't count on your father's third wife,
but then the last of the a******* was your step mom's admonishments,
the words clung deeply and it stung like a knife wound.
you didn't count on the last of the a*******
but the last of the a******* would find his way in your bed,
and you soon saw his face in every dog out there barking at you.
when you said no, but he still did what he wanted.
then the last of the a******* was that rip in your grocery bag.
the last of the a******* was that drunk at the bar.
the last of the a******* had you fed up and screaming
that you'd never be safe till you were far far away from it all...
the last of the lineage, a long c**mination of
your college ex boyfriends, the guys in that crust band,
the internet creeps, and your grandma's opinions.
you didn't count on the last of the a*******,
because you didn't count on letting anyone in.
after the one you thought would be the last of the a*******
you swore you'd never let em under your skin again.
it's a jarring sensation when you've fallen under
and a mix up of anger and shame and embarrassment
is the pain that just compounds, and comes back to haunt you
when you find that you've made the mistake of believing in
the stories you tell yourself about how it won't happen
and the courage you earned and then all your self-confidence
it drains when you've waved off what you'd thought was the last of them,
to find that the next one had just gotten in again.
and when it happens again, where will you be?
what will you do if it happens to you and your whole life
you'd be subject to that shame and embarrassment
over and over again? and even if it thickens your skin
you'd be left with the lingering question of "when would you ever trust again?"
but you didn't count on the last of the a*******.
the last of the a******* standing outside the metro,
but he hollered and called and he said "show she me a smile, girl,"
and followed you home when you said "you can go f*** yourself,"
you didn't count on all the incessant comments.
you didn't count on your father's third wife,
but then the last of the a******* was your step mom's admonishments,
the words clung deeply and it stung like a knife wound.
you didn't count on the last of the a*******
but the last of the a******* would find his way in your bed,
and you soon saw his face in every dog out there barking at you.
when you said no, but he still did what he wanted.
then the last of the a******* was that rip in your grocery bag.
the last of the a******* was that drunk at the bar.
the last of the a******* had you fed up and screaming
that you'd never be safe till you were far far away from it all...