Paper Doll

Does it make you feel good to make me feel small?
When you’re pushing me down, does it make you feel tall?
Pointing out my flaws ’cause you wanna erase them all
Does it make you feel good to make me feel small?
Betcha didn’t think I knew what I was made of
Thought I would lay down
I wouldn’t stand up
Well listen up ’cause you got it all wrong
This is your song, this is your song
I’m not a paper doll
Can’t make me what you want
You just build me up and tear me down
Enough’s enough
Go, leave me alone
Cut me down but I won’t fall
I’m not a paper doll
Did somebody make you feel invisible?
Is it true hurt people hurt people?
The way you hate and break
It don’t make no sense at all
But you’re not gonna make me feel invisible
Betcha didn’t think I knew what I was made of
Thought I would lay down
I wouldn’t stand up
Well listen up ’cause you got it all wrong
This is your song, this is your song
I’m not a paper doll
Can’t make me what you want
You just build me up and tear me down
Enough’s enough
Go, leave me alone
Cut me down but I won’t fall
I’m not a paper doll
I’m not a paper doll
Can’t make me what you want
You just build me up and tear me down
Enough’s enough
Go, leave me alone
Cut me down but I won’t fall
Oh, you’d love if you crumble me up
In the palm of your hands
Well, I bet that sucks
‘Cause now you know you can’t
Does it make you feel good to make me feel small?
When you’re pushing me down, does it make you feel tall?
I’m not a paper doll
Can’t make me what you want
You just build me up and tear me down
Enough’s enough
Go, leave me alone
Cut me down but I won’t fall
I’m not a paper doll
I’m not a paper doll
Can’t make me what you want
You just build me up and tear me down
Enough’s enough
Go, leave me alone
Cut me down but I won’t fall
I’m not a paper doll
I love this song, but every time I hear it it makes me think of you. You told me I was the abusive one, but you pointed out every flaw I had and tried to change me to become your perfect girlfriend.
For a long time I rolled over and took it. I let you morph me into this girl who you wanted.
But now I’m very glad who I am now. I won’t be changed by you. Years later and you no longer hold power over me.
Bethany
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Painted Plastic

I didn’t grow up with porcelain faces
But instead painted plastic
I always wondered what it’d be like
To care for something so beautiful
Would I be different if I had?
Or would you break like everything else I touch
I am like Midas, change on my fingertips
But my fingers do not create gold
I create destruction and despair
Nothing good comes from these fingers
So maybe its good I didn’t grow up with porcelain faces
But with, instead, painted plastic.

-Mahogany Etchings

Tucked Between

My joy is the long fingers tucked between mine.
No space between to give room to dark clouds of doubt.
Squeezing, grasping, to keep my demons out. 
I guess this is what you could say my love is.
Not a person, not flesh and soul though intertwined, but my heart resting comfortably in the embrace of yours, oh so kind. 
Perhaps one day my dreams of my heart being not only comfortable, but joyous too, are reachable and attainable.
Yearning for another, the need so strong, compulsion so forceful.
Those feelings are not dark, but bright and colorful.
The same kind that make you choose to run and make your sensible mind scream “be careful.” 

-Mahogany Etchings

Monsters

Some people have monsters deep inside
for some they aren’t that deep
Some people keep them locked inside
and others let them free

Where did the come from…
are we born with them?
Maybe we created them…
or maybe others created them in us

I’d like to think my monsters aren’t my fault
but I think I know… at least a few are
I’d like to think that when they escape, it’s not my fault
but I know… and I know, this time for sure, it is

And the worst kind of monster is the one who lets them escape

-Mahogany Etchings

One Year Ago Today

One year ago today…

My world crashed down on me, and I thought I wasn’t good enough. I thought I was going to be alone. I hated myself more than I have before and I wanted to die.

All because my rapist got married.

Today…

I’m looking at my life and I love myself and who I’ve become. So today I’d like to thank my rapist – because I’m ten times stronger because of the hell I’ve been through. I hate him for hurting me, I do, but I love him as a Christian. It hurts to see him preach in front of a congregation. It kills. But I’m more compassionate because of him.

One year hurts, but makes me thankful.

Bethany

 

Do You Care About Injustice?

Today at my old college there was a protest over a professor getting fired after he was accused of sexual assault. They don’t believe the girl who reported him – but why is this what these students care about. This an only this. I don’t even know if this man is or isn’t guilty – but what I do know is that the college ignored injustice for years. So why now?

Where were these protests when I was dismissed from the college after reporting a sexual assault? Where were these protests when the boy was found not guilty even though he admitted it and I had proof? Where were these protests when the boy was allowed to stay on campus if he wrote a paper on the sanctity of marriage. Where were the protests when a serial rapist was allowed to graduate? Where were the protests when administration stayed silent?

Where were these protests when this college refused to take our sexual assaults seriously. 

Is it just because you cared more for this professor than you did for any of the students? Because you don’t care about assault survivors? 

Bethany