10 / 30 : she got a donk.

i didnt even plan on writing this poem today but hell.

BLACK MENNNNNNNNNNNNN. ugh!

she got a donk

july.30.2009.

textmessagefrom an oldflame:

11:05PM EST -

"ey, you should get yo titties done. 

then yo chest will be caught up with yo ass. 

just a thought"

when i was ten years old i was

a stick figure with a

donk

'a little package

hanging off my backside'

as my nana used to say

and by the time i was 12

i had to stop wearing leggings to school

the boys would run into their open lockers

peeking around the corner

late to class trying to scope out

my adolescent ass 

it got so bad that my gym coach 

had to pull me aside and suggest

i try some less form fitting fabric

but when i became a cheerleader

hell broke loose at summit parkway middle

none of the boys were watching the game

when i bent over to drink from my water bottle

i was thirsty as hell

and so were they

parched ass little tweens and teens

trying to get a bite of my backside

one day my dad and  i went to the store

i wore a skort, innocent enough

age 13, couldn't even fill an A-cup 

the bag boy dropped the peaches

on the floor because he was too busy

trying to bag me

my dad shook the shit out of him

and on the ride home he told me 

that i will be wearing potato sacks

for the rest of his life

or he will castrate every nigga in a 10 mile radius

he came pretty damn close

by the time i moved to memphis

home of the infamous drive by,

roll down the window, and holla

i was stopping traffic on s. perkins and poplar

rims kept spinnin but cars full of niggas

stopped in midday traffic

asking me whats up with that 'gusha'

a phrase i was not at all familiar with

and i still don't respond to 

the hoes that hated me were jealous

making rumors that i poked it out intentionally

mad at the fact that their shit was sagging

front back side to side

high school was treacherous because

my ass made me a walking advertisement

for a free fuck apparently niggas came at me

at my locker all kind of ways, speaking reckless

sometimes not even talking at all

just pinching my ass when i wasn't looking

running off and slapping their niggas high five

oddly enough my friends were jealous

being objectified was what was good in midtown memphis

and everybody wanted a piece of this ass

literally. sort of.

but i would come home and cry 

stand in the mirror concaving my spine

looking like a chocolate crescent moon

to make my ass less noticeable

that's not the attention that the new girl in town

wanted

and by the time i was 16, 17, 18

it didn't even phase me when i would walk by

and a nigga would drop his girlfriend's hand

trying to check up on it 

and when they called me, they never called to

ask about me

they wanted to speak to my ass

which, unfortunately, can't speak for itself

i'm old enough now to finally

appreciate my backside

when she got a donk comes on in the club

im the first girl on the floor gettin it poppin

and yes, i do it the best

i take this being thick shit seriously

no nigga is going to objectify me without my consent

so i take the texts and the catcalls in stride

these lames have been trying to get a good grip

of my hips

for years

but they always come up

empty handed