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 Oct 2014 lost girl
unwritten
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.
 Oct 2014 lost girl
unwritten
your love is boring,
to put it nicely.
you
fit too well,
and you write like you're dying --
dripping words of broken hearts
and people made of cracked marble.
you don't believe in young love,
and yet every word out of your mouth
is about the boy that has your mind
(and heart)
wrapped around his finger.
you find beauty in the same self-destruction
within which he finds chaos.
you love him,
he loves you,
and you are finally all you never wanted to be.

but i guess that's all too common
when you pair a thunderstorm
with a tornado.

i guess that's all too common
when you go looking for love
in all the wrong places.

i guess that's all too common
when you fall in love
with a broken compass.


  

(a.m.)
whatever makes you happy, dear.
 Oct 2014 lost girl
Poetic T
Beginnings of pain
And the suffering of one,
Started early for one so young,
Terror in innocent eyes
A* punishment for nothing,
Rained down fists fell hard
Dead I wish you were, *
******* forever in my eyes
Decades pass and the hate is still boiling beneath
 Oct 2014 lost girl
Tilly
...paused
 Oct 2014 lost girl
Tilly
in places              dreamt of
                                             spaces
  where we forgot to breathe &
  each silence speaks  
   volumes
The smell of sawdust
Tell me what do you see
Is it little O me??

The mixture of emotions
that lay endlessly
hides my sorrows
tremendously

The constant noise
makes me wonder where
my soul might be, where the roots
where Angels do lay

In the northern side of life
with the sweet tears that die
stirring the rays of light
from midnight sun that cast
with the purest blood of divine love ...

Where the colored lights
shine so bright, even the smell
of sawdust, brings the nights
too days of purest height  ...

Debbie Brooks 2014
Our children go to school everyday
they come home crying
but they won't say...

Emotional abuse her way comes
beaten and broken
converted to crumbs...

Sitting alone in her bed at night
reliving the day
and her terrible plight...

Getting dads razor to ease the pain
it helps but a moment
there's nothing to gain...

Next morning comes with a tear in her eye
all over again
and asking God why...

A quick bus ride to obsidian hell
never to learn
entombed in a shell...

Will it stop, are they better than you?
do they return home
crying and blue...

Do they wear sleeves to cover their scars?
or play video games
and play on monkey bars?

It's not fair, I've done nothing wrong
I try to stay strong
but it doesn't last long...

I want to go to heaven right now
I don't want to be here
I'm a miserable sow...

The razor i use is now dull from my pain
I need something stronger
to lay open my vein...

Mom and Dad, I love you so
I can't take anymore
I really must go...

Give my Brother a hug and a kiss
I can't stop crying
you all I will miss...

Sincerely;
your loving Daughter...
 Oct 2014 lost girl
wordvango
Poem of prosy
I am so sorry
to relay this story
of ending glory
knowing
your suspenseful stories
await my attentions.
Your suspenseful showy
purposefulness I feel,
I do!
I read and write and breathe
and cry!
Just as you.
I slay dragons daily,
carry princesses away,
I live in castles
like you!
I walk every word wearily,
or crawl away , but always go forward.
 Oct 2014 lost girl
wordvango
My best friend shares all her toys.
She doesn't play with the older boys.
On rainy days,
we play inside.
hide and seek-
(I'm smiling now,)
and I- spy,
are our two most favorites.

I cry on the days
she tells me she can't
come out to play.
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