there are so many of you
that i would love to sit down with;
maybe over a milkshake and a plate of fries;
and just talk.
i want to ask you about the boy that hurt you,
about the anger you feel deep inside
over a father who said he’d come back...
and then didn’t.
i want to run with you through pages of words and say
“oh that’s right, what a lovely metaphor.”
i want to see all your smiling faces and
thank each and every one of you for showing me kindness,
for saving my life.
i want to collaborate on novels of poetry
and laugh with you through the tears of our pasts.
so until we sip those milkshakes and eat those fries...
thank you, to
some of the most beautiful people i have never met.

A life without problems is something that we all secretly wish for.
I think more than we realize, problems is what makes us who we are.
Every single day it's a battle, whether we know it or not.
We dress in our armor, shoulder blades and helmets.
Made out of steel to protect us from the world and from one another.
We charge head first into a fight, blinded by adrenaline.
And get torn down to the bones. We can see your skeleton.
All of your deepest aspirations, the love and hatred all blended into one.
Displayed out on the floor for everyone to see.
This isn't the person I wanted you to be.
Who are you? Silence abounds, the decisions have become so muddled.
The door has been shut.
Take a deep breath, try again.
Once again, you put on your armor.
Sliding on the metal chest plate and helmet, you feel redeemed.
There was nothing in this world that could hold you back.
Or so you thought, you were so sure that you would succeed.
You were so sure that nothing in this world could stop you.
And that any foe you ever met would just leave you alone.
You were wrong, and I was a fool to believe you.
I sat idly by while you fought in the war, not saying a word.
I was too afraid, terrified really that you would come home too soon.
I listened as you rambled on about your buddies and your struggles.
I enjoy the way that you strung words into a sentence in a manner that was so elegant.
You told me that, everything was going to be okay, as long as you were in control.
Speak only if spoken to, you're wrong, I will speak whenever I please.
I prepare for a final battle. I slowly put on the mask of a warrior.
You stand up tall and look down at me and laugh for you underestimate my tenacity.
To you, I was nothing more than a memory.
The bell rings and the fight commences.
Two shots at my face.
Three shots down the drain.
Four shots, and you scream out my name.
Five shots, I’m tired of your little game.
Six shots, I will no longer cower in shame.
You taught me what it was like to have freedom.
The freedom to live, the freedom to explore, the freedom to be me.
Why did you take it away? I ask with tears rolling down my cheeks.
I fought for this life, I fought for this love, and I fought for my choice.
A world where I cannot speak, is a world not worth living in.
Because in this world, I have chosen to fight for my voice.

It is hard to be loyal
When a friend ignores
The unwritten quiet code
Among better shores

They delicately drift away
Leaving no trace behind
Except unspoken words
That we cannot find

Bound to a promise
Turned to a curse
Our ups and downs
Poured out into verse

Rumors, secrets, and lies
Run rampant through the day
While we helplessly watch
Worn memories fade

The more that we struggle
The harder it gets
To work and untangle
Our huge woven mess

Like a broken record
We cannot mend
There seem to be cliffs
Around the next bend

We have built a wall
That cannot be torn down
Now in a sea of anger
We both stubbornly drown

Meaningless smiles
Can't fool us anymore
I think it is time
We walk out the door

It kills me to say this
I do not want to lie
Somehow I will still love you
I am saying goodbye

I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman.
Does it mean that I am always in competition to be the top of my species?
Does it mean that I need to be perfect without a single curve out of line in order to find love?
Does it mean that I am only defined when owned by a man?
Does it mean that I can only find purpose in childbirth?
Does it mean that I will forever live in the shadow of men?
Does it mean that I am an object invented solely for a man's pleasure?
Does it mean that I'm forced to confine to gender roles and live in someone else's story?
Does it mean that I'm supposed to accept it when I'm harassed from across the street?
Does it mean that I'm supposed to lie there silent when he puts his hands up my skirt?
Does it mean that I am only worth 77 cents to a man’s dollar?
Does it mean that I am defined by my looks rather than my intelligence?
Does it mean that I will never be capable of holding a major position of power due to my mood swings?
Does it mean that I am defined by how many men I have had *** with?
Or does it mean something else entirely.
It's difficult learning to love being a woman.
Obvious and damaging disadvantages are visible to observers.
We are regarded as second best, property of our man.
We are erased from history, our pain is minimized and forgotten.
We are oppressed and have to fight for our rights.
We are afraid to walk the streets at night, afraid for our lives.
We are harassed without care and without penalty.
We are ***** and murdered for refusing proposals.
We are expected to live on the sidelines as a housewife whose only priority should be her children.
We are expected to keep quiet in situations of domestic abuse.
We are expected to be perfect, and pretty, fresh for a man’s picking.
We can’t even advocate for our own equality without being demonized.
There are times where I wish I wasn’t a woman.
Being a woman comes with innumerable expectations, pressures, and responsibilities.
My existence is not defined by a man, or by the patriarchal expectations that have been placed on me.
I am breaking free of my confinements and I’m not afraid to admit that,
I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman. And that's okay.
//sarahmann

If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til you picked up the phone.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that we were right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.

I wear my heart
on my sleeve
My emotions get
the best of me
I have no self confidence
in anything I do

Am I really worth everything
In my life
That I give
110%
With all that I do....

Sometimes life can be a lot like a taco
It's all falling apart, but it still tastes good.