Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jul 2018 3purplepebbles
Mims
Counting calories when I'm bored
Analyzing fat
Comparing flatness
I am the queen of obsession
So quickly
So easily
And then it is too late
So I don't let myself think about it constantly
I try not to
But I do
And all my friends say I have the flattest stomach
But when I look in the mirror
All I can see
Is how my thighs are thicker than last year

I have connected pain with reward
That if it hurts its healing
That if I'm hungry I'll improve
The red is rising with no ceiling
Keeping low to the ground
Not taking off my shirt when I kiss you

Crying with no sound
Not letting myself miss you

Processed sugar is a no
But I am so cold


All the time.
Pressure
This is a part 2 to a poem I posted here last February with the same title. My issues with eating have switched since then, and they are not large issues. But they're there.
 Mar 2018 3purplepebbles
Danielle
Perhaps I shouldn't mock your previous sentiments,
But Lord Bitterness has requested it be so,
And I am but a jester on strings for my Lords & Ladies.

If I cut them with vorpal shears I might be free.
More likely I'll just collapsed, a pile of cut parts.
Better I sing and dance while tugging here and there.

I'll eventually pull them all deep inside me.
Toying with the idea of emotions ruling over people and how we struggle to keep them inside ourselves and keep them under control.
 Dec 2017 3purplepebbles
anon
titled
 Dec 2017 3purplepebbles
anon
this poem
has a title
so that all who read it
know
that this poem has a meaning

because without something to reference
a name
or a title
things are left behind

just like me
in all the years
i tried to remain
untitled

rather

anonymous

untitled people
like me
are given no
second glances
no
first chances
no
social advances

nothing

left behind
like a poem
without
a name
 Dec 2017 3purplepebbles
Mims
You are just another object that they cannot ****
and it makes them angry
These boys, they get angry

So write goodbye behind your ear and down your throat and in permanent marker on both of your thighs

Tattoo **** backwards on your inner lip, so everytime you look in the mirror and try to choose teeth to pull to make their rejection more convenient
you will be reminded of who you are*

They will say swearing is ugly and you will say ***** until they shift in their seats
You will stare them down and bring your pointer finger across your neck
Don't you get it?
You will say
Pretty girls end up dead
You should know you're the ones killing them
But don't think that means I won't kick your *** in my skirt
won't strangle you with my golden hair
Won't choke you with my pretty nails until you are reduced to a blood stain
I wake up in once a month
These boys will think you owe them something
They will call you
*** *****
****
Simply in need of "some convincing"
When you don't want to sleep with them
you will tell them you get more girls then them
You are beautiful
You are ******
But most of all you are strong
You are fight
And you will tell all these boys to their face
That you could **** them with a look
You could weave a noose out of your armpit hair and fasten it around their big fat
Egos

You will be the one to change the world
I say
Cradling my daughter's head

You will be the one to change the world I say
Hugging my son tight
We will not go quietly into this darkness
I will raise you
With fight
I,
will raise you *RIGHT
This is my life.
Because my gender has been used to portray weakness and inadequacy and an excuse for lack of respect for as long as I can remember. I grew into a world uncaring unforgiving being told to mind my own business. When my bestfriend got ***** and everyone around me said "well, with a chest like that.." when my brothers and uncles dismiss my opinion, because "girls are too loud nowadays" it is entirely my business. I will not be silenced by your judgment.  I will not go quietly as so many have told me to.
People have told me this is just another angry feminist poem,
And ****
You're right.
 Dec 2017 3purplepebbles
Mims
The ocean has enough pollution

*The last thing it needs is your opinion
9/12/17 diary #2
Next page