My mind is not always my own
It's a state of mentality
I've got strings tied
to my arms, legs and head
A social reconstruct of reality
everywhere I look
Ads commercials billboards
"Do this do that
No eyes facing forward
the future is dark
Who really gives a crap which soda is better
Wow that's zero calories?
Ever heard of a little something called exercise?
Everyone is so high so strung up worried about their salaries
No time to go outside
Excuse me miss, the light is green
cant you spare a minute looking past your compact mirror?
Scratch that
I can see the glow of that smart phone in your lap
Who knows what you're looking at
whether is be a text, or some internet crap
Eyes glued to the screen like some kind of addiction
welcome to social media
the worlds latest affliction
our minds become desensitized
To the real world with it's drugs obesity *** and depression
What you have ADD
well there's a pill for that
What you got drunk
well there's an app for that
Tell me where to go
tell me what to do
What should be my next meal
that this is what I should look like
cause 130 pounds is a 130 pounds of fat
And I'm overweight compared to that blonde anorexic
who is now the definition of beauty
Discrimination is everywhere
Racism is all over
There is just one human race
No matter the color of the face
Of the world in which I love
People judge me by the color of my skin
But you know what
You cannot consider yourself so grand
and compare people to the dirt on which you stand
Don't tell flaws are not a reality
You can tie strings to my arms legs and head
and next you will be telling me racism and hegemony is not an actuality
But I will no longer be society's puppet
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
Imagine if I was given one moment,
Just a single slice of my past.
I could hold it close forever,
and that moment would always last
I'd put the moment in a safe
within my heart abode
I could open it when I wanted
and only I would know the code
I could choose a time of laughing
a time of happiness and fin
I could choose a time that tried me
through everything I've done
I sat and thought about what a moment
would always make me smile
One that would always push me
to walk that extra mile
If I'm feeling sad and low
if I'm struggling with what to do
I can go and open my little safe
and watch my moment through
There are moments I can think of
that would life my spirits every time
the moments when you picked me up
when the road was hard to climb
For me to only pick one moment
to cherish save and keep
is proving difficult
as I've gathered up a heap!
I've dug deep inside my heart
found the safe and looked inside
there was room for lots of moments
in fact hundreds if I tried
I'm building my own little library
embedded in my heart
for all the moments spent with you
before you had to part
I can open it whenever I like
pick a moment and watch it through
my little library acts as a promise
I'll never forget you
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
This is for the girls who lie awake at night,
Pulling at the blankets to keep them warm,
Drenched in sins of deprecation.
Tossing and turning on their twin size beds,
because there is not enough room to fit expectations,
let alone their own.
This is for the girls who stare at themselves in front of their mirrors,
Pinching at the extra layers of skin that hang around their tummies.
Rolls of "fat" as they call it, I prefer the term "beauty."
This is for the girls who have shoulders are backs plastered in scars.
From the bras that were one cup size to small, overly adjusted and tightened straps.
This is for the girls who fall prey to the fallacies of magazine stands,
captivated by the cold letters bleeding off the covers:
"Three hundred, sixty-five ways to style your hair!"
"How to get the perfect ****
"Turn off the lights to look good naked!"
"How to make him love you!"
Pull apart the flesh, look beneath your skin,
you are not defined by the number of eyes that manifest lust towards you,
you are not the hands that plead to saunter their way toward your hips,
You are not the number of inches that space out your thighs.
Or the visibility of muscle that line up on your stomach.
You do not need to look good naked,
don't turn off the lights.
Your **** looks fine
Stop falling victim to the media
To the photo shopped ads of puppets who look nothing like you
Because your real
and if you want a man to love you, he must learn to accept you
with your extra flaws, our scars, and rolls of fat.
Because that sack of bones known as a model on a Cosmopolitan cover will not keep him warm.
It is inscribed in the atoms that make you a person
you are a three dimensional beautiful masterpiece
you are not a computerized pixelated image
reshaped and resized retouched and revised
stop letting society dehumanize a woman
your a woman
all the fury to slither through you limbs until you shake with and anger and purpose, acknowledge the value of your worth for you are more that just a waste of paper and space, you are space, you are human, your alive, and beautiful
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC