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 Jan 2016 Ariel
svdgrl
Somewhere along the long stretching lines
of misogyny and misunderstanding,
******* and child-******* became
false-terms that were accepted by the masses
to describe small exploited human beings,
survivors.
and **** became a title boys and men aspired
to achieve, and not quite directly the
selfish manipulative sociopathic ****
that it really entailed.
Thank you, Curtis Jackson.
In case no one has screamed it enough,
It's January 2016 folks.
Let's place ourselves in some perspective.
The stories are never just one,
but I'm getting angry and I'm fortunate
enough to be able to speak.
I've got privileges that need to be checked,
too.
Let's check off the privilege that I haven't been abducted
or coerced at 12 by he who claimed that I was wise beyond my years,
and plucked out of my family to do his bidding
under the guise of a mature relationship.
He's 26, but all I can see is the fact I could be older
than the other girls. An old soul in a small pre-pubescent body.
Which is what they tell you to make you feel special.
Let's check off the privilege that
I'm not given those funny feeling drugs to help me
cope with pain of losing my "virginity" to a high-rolling old man
who was fond of his size.
Let's check off the privilege
that even if I do manage to escape the slavery that I'm put in,
I'm labeled as a *** and used up and too ****** up to really be better,
by both my family and my peers
You don't have to cover your ears and eyes,
because you think you can't see me.
You think I'm over seas or in some true detective podunk village
in middle America.
You think I'm not in your school-yard or
I wasn't the girl you teased for being pregnant in middle school,
the one that disappeared and never came back.
That I might not be your troubled niece who keeps hanging with the wrong crowd and going to boarding school this summer,
but she runs away from home before she's sent off.
But we keep blaming *** education, welfare and alternative schooling as the bane of our children,
all these ads for awareness and underfunded programs to aid them
are quickly shoveled under the thick heavy expensive rugs of the Kardashians and Wests,
the golden globes and the best dressed,
and those horrendous child beauty pageants.
Let's stop absorbing this filler material that we shovel into our
kids brains,
and maybe teach our little boys what it means to be privileged,
and to protect by learning to respect.
Our little girls how far they can reach if they learn to never second guess their worth.
It begins with us. Let's stop turning a blind-eye and shut ear,
because we fear making a commitment to the belief
that men and women should be equal.
That yes, not all men,
but yes there are women,
and our experience is not the only story that needs to be understood.
And everyone has a privilege that needs to be checked,
but check your own first.
January is human-trafficking and slavery awareness month.
It exists among us, all.
Let's stop being part of the problem and learn how we can help.
 Jan 2016 Ariel
noel sauga
you
 Jan 2016 Ariel
noel sauga
you
you happened, so I came to the conclusion that love cannot be real that is was solely an infatuation that you temporarily feel
so I shoved aside this momentary distraction of examining loves reaction
my mind was to willing to accept
but then, you happened
 Jan 2016 Ariel
sanch kay
we’re the cool girls of this generation,
the ones with the words ‘i .cannot. give. a. ****’
slashed across us in bold red,
the little lies we tell ourselves to go to bed,
instead of spending midnight hours strung on the edge
unable to seek behind or storm ahead.

the ones who fell asleep
to the sound of constant yelling, artillery shelling; bitter bullets exploding
into ugly bruises splattered across still skinny limbs,
shifting stories of anger and frustration, guilt and regret
expressed across inches of innocent skin;
the ones whose clothes were just a little bit frayed on the edges
the wear and tear of secret battles
fought behind sunset alleys,
behind midnight tea stalls
or on bright Sunday afternoons
at the bus stand,
desperately fighting hungry eyes and hungrier hands.

we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones with the
red tips red lips
red ribs red wrists.


we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones that house boys in our hearts and
smoke in our lungs,
the ones who spend way too much time inside their own head,
asking a hundred questions before every step in this game of wizarding chess that
never seems to slow down -

we’re the ones that can be found
wandering insomniac across sulphur-sodden streets,
wisps of distant wishes
settling into the foggy vestiges
of a high mind longing to soar higher.

we’re the cool girls of this generation
the one that are still allowed just the right rationing of
action emotion expression complication communication
while wearing a constant resting not-so-***** face
head sorting information in a frenzied daze,
heart swinging between your fingers and a suitcase -

the ones with one foot in the present and
other parts traversing through parallel dimensions,
searching for a back up plan if your hearts refuse to allow us home;
the ones whose mouths became graveyards
for all the words that went unsaid,
for all the words to which we came undone,
for all times your eyes asked us questions that we shunned

we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones that belong to roads unknown and bodies untouched,
the ones that find stories in shipwrecked planks
that ride stormy oceans only to find homes
or perhaps even build them -
amidst the crumbling sand castles on the sea shore.

because we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones with the
*red tips red lips
red ribs red wrists.
 Sep 2015 Ariel
Sierra Scanlan
Let's take a moment
And toast to the inevitable kind of men
The ones we hate to cross
But somehow do anyways
The **** boys
With their egoistic personalities
And no good intentions
They make the world go around
By making us realize
How much better we deserve
So thank you
For being a **** boy
And showing me
Everything I don't want in a guy
 Sep 2015 Ariel
Paul Hardwick
People ask me, so here it is
I create this stuff here
live, right here, on Hello Poetry
that's why, is has, mist spellings and stuff
now I feel like a wizard
dipping my toe into all your worlds
but this is not your world it's mine
an I keep it so
if my colours spill out
well that your own problem
wipe them up, smer them over with white
and go on write over the top
I always do
and that's what make me me
I have alway's said.
and all the things that I tell you
are no wear from here
well more like, in my world.


Hope this help's.
P@ul.
I could never know just how dangerous being a lamb is until I fell for the lion.
He could easily snap me in half, mentally, emotionally.
He is all predator, cool calm and collected.
All harsh lines and sharp tongue
All confidence and cockiness
But the way he moves, so beautifully
It breaks my heart.
And I am the sick ******* that can't bear to let go,
I would run if I wasn't so busy being caught up in him
So busy wanting to put him back together
Because he wasn't always a lion, wasn't always this.
He was a cub once, a smaller version of himself now
Lesser and more
But I will fall asleep tonight thinking of his roar
And what it does to my heart
Not afraid, but utterly transfixed
Stupid, stupid lamb
For falling in love with the lion.
The quote that is the title was written by Stephenie Meyer ten years ago. The poem however, is mine
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