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unwritten Sep 2014
don't dress like a *****,
                                            but remember: your success is based upon how much of your *** they see.

stand up for yourself,
                                            but remember: use the wrong tone, and your husband will beat you.

have fun,
                                            but remember: going out alone and drinking will only end up with you in a stranger's bed the next morning.

make sure you never have to rely on your man for money,
                                            but remember: someone will probably steal your purse while you're out alone.

"no" means "no,"
                                            but remember: you always have to give him what he wants.

**** isn't the victim's fault,
                                            but remember: you were asking for it.

it's your life. it's your body.
                                            but remember:
                                                      ­           it's not.


                                                        ­                                                               (a.m.)
Hi. Please be sure to read the poem in its entirety before commenting, thank you. And just so we're clear: this poem is not in any way meant to degrade women, but rather to point out how society often sends women and girls mixed messages. We tell them not to act like "*****" or "******," and yet everywhere you look there's another song or music video that sexualizes women, and then we blame the victims when **** occurs. We tell them to be independent and stand up for themselves, but then automatically assume they must have done something wrong if they get beaten by their spouses or significant others. We tell them to take control of their lives and bodies, and yet the very next moment, we tell them the exact opposite.

Every two minutes, an American is sexually assaulted. 1 in 4 women will experience domestic abuse in their lifetime.

It's 2014, and I am still a long way off from being a parent. But I wouldn't want my future daughter living in a world like this.

She shouldn't have to.
  Sep 2014 unwritten
PK Wakefield
.






























"What have you been doing these days?"



"Trying to become myself."






























.
  Sep 2014 unwritten
calion
nearly 2 years later,
i am gracious that you were my first love.
if i hadn't have fallen so hard,
everything would be different.
so thank you.
thank you for ******* me up.
unwritten Sep 2014
i remember those days when we would walk for hours and hours under the hot, beating sun with no destination in mind. nowhere to go, no one to see. just you, me, and the sun.

our bones were brittle, our cheeks were flushed, our bodies were sore. but we didn’t care. we had stopped caring about the little things.

we would laugh until our lungs burned and wake up every day thinking, “god, this really is a beautiful world if you make it one.”

we would smile until our cheeks hurt and pray that it would rain so we could dance in it.

we would sing until our throats were like sandpaper and lie down in the grass at night and look up at the stars.

we were wild.

we were beautiful.

we were free.

we were lost, but god, we were free.

one day you woke up and something shifted inside your heart and you said that you didn’t believe this was a beautiful world. you didn’t believe in you, or me, or us.

you didn’t want to laugh until your lungs burned or smile until your cheeks hurt or sing until your throat was like sandpaper.

you didn’t want to dance in the rain or look up at the stars.

one day i woke up and you were gone.

no note. no explanation. no goodbye. just gone.

you are gone, and i am still here.

i am still here, but now i wake up every morning wondering how i could have ever seen this world as beautiful.

i only like the rain now because it makes the sun a little more bearable (i’ve stopped dancing in it).

i don’t pay much attention to the stars anymore. all i know is that they make me feel just a bit less lonely.

it’s just me and the sun now, though sometimes i can feel you lying next to me and i reach over to grab your hand or look at you or say something but all i have is the sun.

not you.

we were never lost, you know. we just didn’t want to accept that we had always been found.

(a.m.)
.
unwritten Aug 2014
one day
i hope i will be able
to light a match in my brain
and with that fire
reduce all those painful memories
to ash and smoke.

one day
i hope i will be able
to look back upon us --
upon what we were --
and accept that it simply
wasn't meant to be.

one day
i hope i will be able
to pick myself up
and walk away
instead of waiting for your
unlikely return.

for so long,
you have been the ocean,
and i have been the helpless boat --
tormented and battered by your ruthless waves.

for so long,
you were the siren
and i was the foolish sailor,
being drawn in
again and again
by your songs.

for so long,
i was a naive dreamer
and you were the stars
that i hoped would grace me with their presence.

for so long,
i was holding on
to something that was never real.

one day
i hope i will be able
to get rid of you.

and one day
i will.

(a.m.)
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