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I Am Not Your Babe

 




So, you’re going to shame me now,
Shame me for what—for trying to act like you all
In those moments of frustration?
While I read about sticking to morals
When all I saw were immoral things swirling around me—
I let some of it consume me, I admit it.

And now, you’re going to call me a failure,
Because I don’t fit your narrow definition of success?
Be that as it may, I’d rather cry and scream right now,
Because I’ve had those haunting dreams—
Dreams that shred the nights open with their claws.

At least by falling in front of you all,
I can say it proudly now, without guilt or a tremble in my voice:
I AM NOT YOUR BABE.

So, go ahead and make fun of me for my boundaries,
Do it loud and clear, laugh at me if you dare.
But at least I’m not pretending to be moral and pure
In front of your mothers, your wives, and society,
While hiding sins under polished smiles.

Guys like you, who asked why I hadn’t watched porn,
Because you can say it all freely, right?
And then you act wise and good in front of your wives.
Married folks sending me messages when your women are away.

You hide the fact that you call me sexy, call me babe
When it suits you, and then turn around
To cast me as the problem, the nutjob, the fool.
Call me crazy, call me a psycho,
But you all have twisted sides of your own,
Sides you try to keep in the shadows.

So go on, laugh at me as much as you like.
But know this: I represent the darkness in you,
The parts you hide behind the masks of decency,
While you treated me as a secret pleasure.

Laugh all you want, mock me with your hypocrisy.
I am not your shame to carry.
I am the mirror you avoid,
The truth you bury deep—
I am your own dark side, laid bare.

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