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Muted Dec 2017
we caught eyes
in this convenience store
but
not because i fancied you.
i was piercing you
with my gaze
lips pursed, ready to spew
all of the hatred that swelled within me.
you were air and I was a balloon
but
you didn't expect something so hard
from someone so "soft"
because since i was a child
i was taught to speak only when spoken to
to do what men expect you to do
to find comfort in getting someone to fall in love with you
but i will not settle with
being defined by someone else,
not even you.
ive spent far too long holding my tongue
because that's what they expect women to do
they expect you to stay silent while they undress you
not just with their bodies
but with their words, falling like dominoes, spreading until the last one falls
but when will the last one fall?
when will I feel comfortable walking home by myself?
when will my clothes no longer be a form of consent?
when will the lines be paralleled?
when will birth no longer be punishment?
and when that day comes
when a boy tells my daughter what she should and shouldn't do,
his words like howling winds, destroying everything in their path,
she will have been made of stone.
and when he compares her to other girls, she will know wholeheartedly that she is a beautious being
and not because someone told her so.

so, here we are in this convenience store.
and i no longer hold my tongue.
Muted Aug 2017
isn't it ironic
that a body
that was once
capable of
creating life

can also manage
to destroy it
Muted Aug 2017
winding
spinning
grasping
sinning
follow the motions
read them aloud

the flick at the end
of your lowercase d
ignites me
when you say
you're aroused

whipping
digging
curving
and looping
i study your prose
nectar trickling down

body curved like a c
lips pursed patiently
my dear,

how are your o's so perfectly round?

rhythmic
shaking
stirring
quaking
the stroke of your pen
is all i can see

without physicality
my floodgates are opened
with poetry
you stroke me
Muted Aug 2014
Each and every
nook and crevice

will be adorned
with perched lips

And, within moments,
those lips will bless my ears

with the bittersweet
sound of promise

And those tired eyes
will captivate my soul

However,
someday, those crevices
will remain untouched


These ears,
imperceptive

Someday,
those tired eyes



will cease to love me
Muted Jun 2014
Blind.
Mute.
Surely not deaf.

I long for metal clicks

The leather belts.
The tears and welts.

On these things, I'm affixed.
Muted Oct 2013
I've become used to chipped nail polish
Accustomed to tapping my feet and fingers
Never smiling
Biting my lip until I taste that
oh, so familiar,
morsel of blood

I'm used to being nervous
am I good enough?
I'm used to rejection
I'm not good enough

But, he never rejected me

I hide myself under an ugly sweater
an itchy, ugly sweater
And what lies beneath the sweater,
makes me nervous

Everything makes me nervous.

But, he accepted me
and my ugly sweater

I expect to hurt
I'm used to putting a bandage
wherever it stings
Hoping it heals
Only to pick at the scabs
When I'm nervous

But, he never hurt me

I've become used to being abandoned
I accepted the fact that
no one can love me
And I'm too nervous to love others

But,

When I met him,
I stopped chipping at my nail polish
I quit tapping my fingers and feet
I refrained from biting my lip
All of my scabs healed
I wasn't afraid to go outside
I was no longer afraid to take the elevator
He loved who I was
And I was able to love him in return
And
I smiled
Even under my ugly sweater
Muted Oct 2013
You loosened your grip
My body drifts to sea
I allowed this febrile fit
Unwavering supremacy

Thoughts render me numb
Under life's debris
I've become the sea
And the sea is me
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