Confession 3: Shush

See what had happened was I found out about your wifey. You thought you was slick, didn’t you, cuz? Trying to spit game at me like I was one of these silly little girlies, who stare you down like you Chris Brown or Usher or one of these pretty fools. I may seem naive, even innocent, but joke’s on you. I know way more than you think. I know how to play it off like I don’t know a goddamn thing but all the while, I’m onto you. Anyway, you’re probably wondering why I stopped smiling your way. I don’t play that. I was raised right. If you’re taken, I respect that, even if you don’t. It made you ugly to me. It turns my stomach to see you now. I think of your wifey and your four babies and I want to take whatever weapon you carry and beat you upside the head with it. But no, I’m an actress and right about now, you’ll never see who I really am. Instead, I’ll just look at you like you’re a piece of glass, like my homegirl says. Just look right through you and not really hear anything you say. So go ahead make your unfunny jokes. Tell me you trust me. Ask me to dance. But put your pig hands on me again and I won’t need anyone to fly out here to shut you up. Trust that.

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