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I.
gillian b Mar 2015
I.
i know now that i am glass
poem? maybe. thoughts? of course
gillian b Jun 2014
I wish I loved a poet
so I could be immortalized in words
so stories about me could be written in verse
just once

I wish I loved a poet
so I could be an inspiration
just once

I wish I loved a poet
so I could be the writer
just once

I wish I loved a poet
so I could help them when they realize
that the world of dreams is just that

I wish I loved a poet
so I could teach them of reality
of the beauty and the pain and the mystery

I wish I loved a poet
so I could show them the stars
so I could teach them how to reach them

I wish I loved a poet
so we could watch the night
and wonder

just once
gillian b Sep 2016
my mother taught me to be the artist, not the art piece
to be not the inspiration, but the inspired, and i lived my life according to this law
believing wholeheartedly that i would be taken seriously and noticed for my talents and not cast aside, labeled "silly girl" and left to gather dust
i was raised to be the sculptor not the sculpture
to be the water drip drip dripping down the concrete infrastructure, causing calamity over quiet and shaping the world of men and mice
i was raised in hopes of change and singing songs of strength and rage
mind over matter, or so i was told
i was raised and taught, so clearly and so bravely that i was not made of porcelain and glass waiting for a man to pick me up off of the shelf and dust me off and fit me for an equally delicate life as a housemaid and as a wife
but as a beast of earth and bone and blood
as a force of wind and fire
i was to be the winds of change for the brave new world that we could live in and be happy in
the poster child for intellectuals and politicians, for scientists and mathematicians, for white and male dominated career-holders to stop and stare at and say "that's the girl who isn't content to sit at home" "that's the future"
and here is what i say to them
most girls aren't content to sit at home, most want to explore, most are searching and scavenging for books and dreams and wishing that someday they can find the land of opportunity and liberty for all
but most girls are dragged into the kitchen and home, kicking and screaming, biting and crying, and forced to work until the iron that they were once made of rusts and falls apart, cracking like the dams they could've destroyed with their might
most girls are told they are worth less than their male counterparts, and this escalates from them seeing themselves as "worth less" to "worthless" and rotting them from the inside out
most girls are taught to be the muse and not the artist and i am sick and tired of being taught i am "better" than most girls because i was taught vice versa
do not praise me, instead fix society, and that will be thanks enough
teach these girls their worth lies, not in the price of their pearls and not even in the secret philosophies they have in their minds, but in their hearts
teach these girls that they are the children of witches and mystics and that they are not simply dolls and toys
teach these girls that space is vast and full of black holes and dark matter just like their minds and their hearts are, and just as their souls are too
teach these girls what infinity is and what finity is, and let them decide which mathematical law the universe is bound to
because the only muse i'd like to be is the muse of their liberty
a spoken word piece, to be performed soon, hopefully
gillian b Sep 2016
if he was the sun,
and you the moon,
it is no wonder the fates were not with you.
those lovers blind the world when they meet.

-*but you can still taste his name on your lips

— The End —