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I am a woman.

I am more than my body, all these curves and edges, my wrinkles and cellulite, my freckles and moles, the birthmark on my leg, the large one on my face and the color, my skin color, blending in white and black, sometimes both. We are universes on our own, made of stars both dying and reborn. We are the sun and the moon, the planets and galaxies. We are constellations, personified.

I am more than my heart, all this love and hate, envy and contentment, anger and calm, happiness and sad. The raging light and the smothering darkness. We are spirits from the wild, untamed and untied, we don't come back to cages, we make our own homes and we cultivate it. We are souls on fire, glowing always.

I am more than my mind, these questions, doubts, my golden and ever changing opinions and statements, my values and morals, the lies I hide behind and never talk of, the truths I open up to at 2 in the morning and the contemplation of meditation. The terrible voices, magnificent yet deadly. We are creatures of intellect, always thinking and we tie it with our heart, we are reflections of clarity, always evolving, never settling.

I am a woman. Strong in my convictions, in love with the idea of my courage until I show it as a lioness protects and hunts.

I am a woman, you don't need to bow. We can get on your level, we can walk side by side.

If you are not scared to.
The window panes are
grey and trickling with raindrops.
They race one another, falling into
a downward spiral.
Some meet halfway, kiss and
drip quietly.
My bones are held together
with iced coffee and cigarettes.
My skin is the color of summer
gold and lust,
My eyes are deep in wonder
swimming with the face of
a boy I can barely remember meeting.
He's not a boy; a man in his element
the son of the sea
and his tattooed arms have
clutched the remains of my ever growing
heart and mind.
This is not love
No one can love me,
I am rain and thunder, the daughter of the air and the sea.
I am wind and glaring sunlight, the warrior of fire and dusk.
But he came gliding in
like a wolf in the night.
His yellow eyes, those ******* eyes
I see them in between my legs.
Moaning your name is my only recluse
My only refuge in the deepest, darkest
most pornographic areas of this,
multifaceted diamond of a mind.

I hate what you've done to me,
your rough hands on my

Just **** me, **** me and use me
while the thunder roars
and the raindrops race each other
and kiss me, bruise my petal lips
with your Marlboro tinted ones
until we're out of breath,
until we're drained.

One night isn't enough,
monsoon season.
Wandering in lands
unfamiliar yet my fingers
have touched these sands and these stones, before.
I can't remember; things have been fuzzy
my mind has been fickle, this heart
is a mere whisper of a girl
who is now a cat in between her legs.
She feels nothing,
only a
deep need to be filled
until she moans into the night.
You came in, gliding like a moonbeam
Radiant, cold, harsh and rough.
(why the **** do I fall for the bad boys.)
Your hands are tanned
veined and strong, sure and steady.
Your eyes speak of things
that should only be heard in between the sheets.
I'm over here and you're all the way there,
this does nothing to keep
the closeness between my legs together.
We talked about the world, its comings and goings
(I have been so naughty, spank me like you mean it)
Then you just
keep me
on ******* edge
I wanna ****, you said.
Your voice gets me
your hands to
grab my soft thighs
and you to fill me up
ramming yourself in
rough, soft, violently
sore, screams
bruises with teeth marks,

******* feel so ******* good.


why am I here and you're all the way there
in the place we called home,
it's still yours,

So is this body

....for now.
Hello, Jace Lagan.
I will kiss you
at the gas station
we smell of alcohol and
a hidden intention.
You kissed me in the taxi
God, you taste good
Your hand on my breast,
Won't deny this is the best.
You're in between my legs
we're kissing again
I'll let you in some time.
You're an unexpected birthday wish;
not all wishes come true

But this did.
You have entered my mind
in a trickle of gold and
promises dressed in words.
I don't know what it is about you,
when you saw me that night
all the things we have wanted to say would just
never come out right.
We down bottles of alcohol
woozy, fingers intertwined.
It was Labor Day, your breaths were labored.
I could smell you in my mouth
taste you with my eyes.

What have you done to me?
Birth giver.

She smells of honeysuckle and
a hint of powder and Estee Lauder.
I hear her frying eggs and bacon in the morning;
she rushes to prepare my little lunchbox.
Slippers scraping on concrete
Bus stops,
kisses goodbye and a promise of
Adobo* for lunch.


She listens to stories of
crushes and strange friends.
She watches me make
good decisions
terrible choices
why are you like this, self?
Advice is given, sometimes I fight back
she turns out that she's right
Sorry, nanay
I love you still, anak.

Best friend.

Once she caught me
a razor on petal soft skin,
we cried
She asked me to live for her,
for my life.
Would have been gone at 13.
I am cradled in her arms
familiar lullabies
My wrists stopped bleeding.
I'm sorry, nanay.
Anak, don't leave us.


Armor is worn by women
they have a different kind of strength
found within the way they move,
the men are in shock.
She blazes though her career
spreadsheets, financial matters
and gets home
and still gets through
she is strong
a heart on her sleeve
fire in her eyes
and a softness to her hands.


You know how those
first rays of sunlight pierce through
the thickest curtains?
Finally, the house feels warm.
Breathing easy
she loves to follow you around
makes sure you're fine.
She is the sun personified
on cloudy days
after living alone for so long.

My mother is the first home I will always
run back to.
She sewed me wings made of
titanium and velvet
And she let me fly unthethered.

I am the woman of my own making
but you have put gold in my veins
my father put courage in my heart

I love you both endlessly.
*Adobo is a Filipino dish which is a stew composed of soy sauce, potatoes, chicken, pork and the occasional boiled egg.
*Nanay means 'mother' and Anak means 'my child' in Tagalog

happy mothers' day!
Red sheets, a thick comforter
I am entangled in it.
My curves and edges are entrapped
and I have no weapons.
Left to my own devices, my fingers
scratch whatever there is to touch,
be it a headboard or even
my own skin.
The red welts appear, and I swear
cracks surfaced even.
This tightening feeling, rippling
like firestorms and typhoons,
a tsunami of numbness and
pain in my chest.
(oh god, it can't be a heart attack, can it?)
I gave up the nicotine sticks 4 days ago
Dying at 23 isn't the best way to go.
Suddenly the buzzing comes,
the endless hum and incoherent
voices that dictate scenarios
too romanticized to happen.
Stop it, just stop!
I can't breathe

I can't



Screaming isn't an option, it's too dark
for anyone to know.

That is anxiety.
I survived an attack last night

I don't want to die tonight.
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