In the currency of our current world
I have been taught for as long as I can remember
That my value as a woman
Exists only
In how worthy I am deemed by men.

'Remember, no one wants someone that everyone's had'
Was a favourite of my elders.
A line reiterated to me
Since I was old enough
To be made conscious of being sexualised
To be considered one day by men
Disregarding any of my own desires.
Letting me know
My exchange value
Is worth nothing more
Than how much they might want my body
Or by this we mean
How little they may want it
Once they might not have been the first
Or somewhere thereabouts.

I am no one's virginal prize  
No one's to define or demonise.
I am too much ******* woman
To be reduced to such confines
To be fit into a category
Fit for only men to use
To determine what it is I am good for.

I can be the Madonna and the *****,
Whatever I choose
And every bit of brilliance in between.
But make no mistake
Not one bit of our womanhood
Is here for your judgement
Make no mistake
Not one bit of my existence
Is woven into how worthy you find me.

in the morning my blood is cold,
there's chips of ice crawling around my heart
And it paralyzes me.
my mind has control over my body.
it's hard to breathe like this.

I'm so cold I'm shaking.
my lips are blue and
My skin has frostbite all over,
But I'm the only that can see the damage

I get looks of pity
when I try to claw out of my body,
I sliced through my legs and arms
I tried to make an escape

there's a war inside of me that I can't seem to appreciate
please please please, leave me be.

The gleam of the skyscraper is like sunlight on
a pond glimpsed through trees or a free
and joyous river

I am thirsty, yet I have no desire to drink. The well
is poisoned.

The towering architecture opens to the marvels of modernity; their shining windows reveal
the revered throne rooms of CEOs, and workers tapping away
an army of ants to ensure order, according to their rules
and handbooks but above all
by uncertain individuals watching those around them.

And the violence of their tapping keyboards and polite emails
and the penthouses to which they aspire
the life of a bank throbbing
through the steel skeleton of a building that is larger than life,
larger than
those left to die
      trying to get some sleep in the streets
      kicked in the ribs by police
      a different kind of life haunts their heartbeats.

The city has swallowed its own streets and sidewalks
and spits out skeletons
bones dry from its desperate extraction
****** to dust to coat that shining cityskape, the sweat and blood drained from pores to make the steel and the glass
drips away slowly, revealing only dust.

The well is poisoned -
I am dying of thirst -
I wonder which death
will be less painful

There is a dark place you will go,
a place where we've all been
at one time
or another.
A place where clichés come true,
where nightmares turn to reality,
a place where your worst fears,
your deepest insecurities,
will tower above you.
It is a place you will visit
when you have been drained
emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally,
but must keep moving forward.
A place that does not discriminate
for anyone,
a place that is the great equalizer.
You will not be able to breathe.
Your lungs will be filled with soot,
your eyes will be branded in fire,
your mind will be captive,
you will want to quit.
You may even want to die.

But this place holds a secret.

You will fall to your knees
on tough soil and gravel,
blind,
and you will cry, you will scream.
The air will be as fire,
and your skin will be as ice.
But you will dig.

You will blindly ****** your fingers into the cold Earth,
you will search for a way out,
you will rip and bleed and tear,
and you will convince yourself
it is futile.
But you will not stop.

You will keep fighting.

This place holds a secret.
This place holds an opportunity -
an opportunity for growth.

And, yes, you will grow.

They walked. Away from people. Into the wind.
The waves beat the stones. He caresses her hand.
The horizon far away into the sun. Their bodies, closer then god and heaven.
The cliffs, taller then their ego. But their passion overcame its height.

They stood there. He squeezed; she held.
As the sea, gently, yet quickly, devoured the sun.
Then the fight began. Two lost animals.
The bear gazed into the tigers eyes. A stand off.
They battled for hours. Holding back. Even though the waves grew stronger.
Yet the wind felt smoother.

A storm was brewing.

Into the eye of the storm they dived. And from it...wanted no return.

The stars were roaring.
Their eyes; closed
The sea was furious.
Their kiss; gentle.
The horizon became wider.
Their limits; narrower.

These ghosts escaped from a dream. Unaware of whats next. Loving its oblivion.