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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Women's · #2070182
A small street in Queens....
Faces that want to puke, holding drinks and sharing roofies, she always knew better than to let a man break her heart. So she went back to that old shaggy club which they met, just to show 'em what her momma raised. She been woke up to the sound of birds that sang in the old tune, had nothing to do with love. Just like her momma told her, "So if anyone gonna ruin me, it best better be myself." She had a way of dancing that made men respect her, and the way of walking that they craved. Her momma told her that if some day the boys back from Queens come up and fake an apology, she outta walk away and make 'em real sorry. Grew up on a small street with only one color; went to the same school as the rest of 'em, got spit on and called stupid. Her momma told her she best not ever let a boy break her heart; she knew better. And that shaggy old club roofied her drink, the court says it ain't them fault she gave it up to a boy she never known. Then she walk out in handcuffs, got spit on and called stupid. Woke up to the birds singing in that little cell but none of this got nothing to do with love. Her momma told her that she ain't dumb, she knows what happened. She knows it wasn't her that gave it up to a guy she never known. Judge says she's to blame in the orange suit 'cause she grew up in Queens on a small street that only knows black, 'cause she went to the dumb school with the boys that want the way she dance and the way she walk. She to blame for the education her skin color was given, she to blame for the only street name she was accepted, she to blame for the shaggy old club that ain't treat her right because she different, she to blame in a court room for the color of her skin, but if anyone gonna ruin her, it best be herself.
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