After weeks of writer's block...

Slow release like poison in your bloodstream
Your heart beating, alone, can spread it
With a scream
And the adrenaline
Of thinking of what could have been
I'm tired of it
I don't want to think of what if's
I don't want to keep holding on to his
Words saying
"You're nothing special, so stop trying.
Yea you've met someone but you'd be lying
to yourself if you think you'll be flying
all this time. He'll get tired of you, and you'll just be crying."
And it echoes in the back of my head
Everytime something good happens, I dread
What he said
And how I said nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing comes to mind when you ask me
"Have you been to this place or that place?"
I can't remember what didn't take place
I didn't get anything but a slap in my face.
Maybe two, three, four-- but who's counting?
No sir, not me that's for sure
How he called me a little whore
For being with my friends from the store
This is not a composition
For the man in yesterday's mission
But this is my realization
That today I have a completely different vision
Today I am stronger
And not only can I defend him and her
I can stand up for me
I'm not completely there yet but you'll see
I'll be the woman I ought to be
And today it's enough that I'm just G.