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the world is a dangerous place for
daughters,
for sisters,
aunts,
nieces,
girlfriends.
she asks herself if she deserved to be
taken advantage of,
chased,
belittled,
grabbed,
hurt.
fear is instilled in each girl,
their rights withheld,
respect weaned,
voiced silenced
because of their anatomy.
filled with guilt at their mere existence
while rapists sleep soundly.
people say it wouldn't have happened
if you dressed more conservatively,
if you didn't lead him on,
he couldn't help himself,
it's natural,
you should be flattered you stuck up ***** I'm talking to you.
a man that goes too far is excused for being a boy,
while a girl walks to her car in the middle of the night, fearful for her own life.
a naked woman lying in the street is not asking for anything
that she doesn't speak.
why does the first "yes" mean "yes"
and the first "no" mean "persist" ?
why do you get an excuse to act how you want
but I'm not granted the same privledge every 28 days?
at what age do you tell her that she will be
violently pursued,
cursed,
assaulted,
undermined,
paid less
because the structure of her body.
Why does every girl have a heartbreaking story
that she was made to feel guilty for?
like she could have done something to change it,
when the thing that needs changing is the one that thinks "well you see the way she dressed, she brought it on herself."
I hope I don't have a daughter,
but a son instead
so I won't have to be the one to put fear in her head.
I stare into glass eyes with a saddening
lack of depth,
we are all contradictions to the idea
of a free spirit
how are we free without knowing
we are yet released from social borders
our natural state
man made

We inhale time
not smoke,
lines turn night
to day
stuck with the same kind of people
no room to grow
instead we bury ourselves
underground

collapsed.
Its been a long time since I wrote so this may not be up to standards
Her body was motionless
and her face was supple and sweet
she was warm and tender

Sleep.....

My lips, close, yet not quite touching
a whisper, my hand softly embracing her body
her hands and mine....

Sleep... a soft embrace....
There’s this you in you
merging wide into the infinity
and seeping deep into the infinitesimal,
from your immutable stillness watching
the phenomenal you
in a very hot turmoil—

He looks me in the face smiling. 
I listen to him—his words,
like clean pebbles, tangible.
The thundersquall subsides outside
and a quiet creeps into the room,
snuggling for warmth.

From a leak in the roof drips rain water
into a copper ***.

I listen to him—his words,
like clean pebbles, tangible.
And then each word you hear and each word you utter feel like clean pebbles, tangible...
 Feb 2016 chelsea jayne
kristina
There are moments in life when I don't have any idea what I am doing anymore.
It's like my all of my days are bound to start and end the same way.
And I keep asking myself,
When will my world start spinning the other way around?
When will the changes begin?
I'm sick of having to do my daily routines.
I'm sick of everything that makes my life ordinary.
I'm tired and I just want to feel something new.
just thought about this last night while studying lol
Piano Cello Interludes*

I am listening to music,
piano with cello interludes,
thinking about you.
I hear the passionate sadness
mourning from the cello
as the piano weaves hollowness
and melancholy from black and white
minor keys.
I feel the disconnect
between the requiem’s movements
and the reality
of an alive, beating
but confused, sullen heart
fighting to be free.
~~~
It always amazes me
to hear the bow guiding the strings
in pulsing tempo
to the fingers caressing ivory
in such a way
that only a smile
can answer in return,
allowing for a kiss of life
in the midst of chaos
and death.
~~
In moments like this
I want to sit beside you,
place your hand in mine
and tell you all I have learned
and know;
all the secrets
that wander through my mind;
even those held in
dark recesses,
cobwebcluttered
and filled with spent emotions.
~~~
But I know I can’t.
Not because I don’t want to,
nor from fear,
though, to do so is scary
since it would mean giving you
my heart.
No, not because of this.
Rather, cause
I don’t think
this is what you need
or want.
~~~
Life is complicated,
complex in its existence
and it is this contradiction
between desire’s want
and equality’s need;
between what’s flesh
and what’s fantasy;
between art, aesthetics
and reality,
that guides my choices.
It’s how this contradiction
interpenetrates,
thereby shaping
and changing reality.
It is this contradiction
I hear,
feel and taste
in the weaving of piano and cello.
Music living with us in the gutter,
while enticing us to look at the stars.
~~~
I am listening to music,
piano and cello interludes,
I see vast galaxies,
nebulae,
and shooting stars,
Knowing this,
this music of you,
will last a lifetime.
~~~
~~Aztec Warrior/redzone 2.24.14


enjoy the music that goes with this poem
https://youtu.be/QgaTQ5-XfMM
I wrote this poem almost 2 years ago now,  for a wonderful, sweet friend who posted here and at WC. She was special to me and no longer posts because of personal reasons and because of harrassment. I miss her in so many ways, her poetry, its rawness and yet beautiful, her challenges and the way she has handled them with courage and the hugeness of her heart...

I wrote this on my birthday and gave it to her.. This poem is very special to me and think it is one of the best I have ever written. So, my friend, where ever you are I think of you often, miss you, and send you my love..

Thanks to all who read, I hope you enjoy it..
It is the fact that you don't notice it.
You can't seem to notice how it hurts,
even if it is such a tiny thing you have done.
I am seeing it happen,
watching it unfold before my eyes.
I know what is going on,
I know she still thinks of you,
and you still think of her.
How could you let me love you for this long,
and think about someone else.
I will not show how hurt I am to you,
you would think I am irrational.
The only part I don't understand is,
how could you let this happen so freely?
I am typing this and feeling my heart break a little bit more.
My eyes are quivering to hold back the tears.
I am writing this as I look at you.
I am writing this as you look at her.
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