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The glass just is.
In existence.
Not full.
Not empty.
the chains tighten
my face whitens
the realization that i'm lost
finally grips me

if it's assured that i shall one day reach my demise
does that not mean my purpose is pointless
every action i immerse myself in
all i'm really doing
is letting the seconds pass by

which makes me wonder

why we worship those with the most golden clocks
who've taken their minuscule seconds
and made something mesmerizing
but shun those who break the clock
those weary souls who were not
willing to have anymore of it

those who opened their own door
to the possibilities of something more
the possibilities of eliminating
this never ending torment
finally grasping some permanent form of elation

an escape
oh how I long for an escape
How can I ever tell you that
in the 21st century,
as innocent as you are,
you will be sexualized.

It started with
one peak under that skim cloth
that made you an icon
Halloween costumes
turned your baby face into
the mask of a "babe"

There are no more dogs
struggling to tear your short shorts
now only mutts scattering clubs
hands dangling onto your belt loops
as if they were in the middle of a hurricane

You, Coppertone Baby, didn't know any better
you were minding your own **** business
vacationing on the beach
when somebody had the audacity to snap a picture
of your ***.
Sweet little girl,
you are us.

You are society's expectations of innocent women
so easily willing to publicize our bodies
printed on billboards
sold in magazines
You put your hair up for vanity
but we tie our hair back to avoid
violent hands
You, Coppertone Baby
will never be known as Cheri,
just like today,
we are branded into the clothes made to hide our bodies
but couldn't do it enough
we are the voiceless

We are the shadows hiding behind anatomy
we are nip-slips
we are on the front cover
of ******* magazines
You grew up not expecting it
merely existing
only knowing the words,
"mommy and daddy."

Welcome, Coppertone Baby,
to the present, not so much a gift
where your first words are now,
"thank you"
the camera is constantly pointed
constantly asking you to sit pretty
you will learn to avoid beaches
and only buy the clothes
that suffocate your skin


I know you were meant to sell sunscreen
but how can I ever buy your product
if I can't even hardly
go outside.
 Oct 2014 Regine Santos
J
I see you, you say nothing. No hi. No nothing. (I haven't seen you for what feels like a millennium.) You just stand there. Hello? I call to you. You respond. You walk away.

I hug you, you do nothing. No return. No nothing. (I haven't given you a proper hug since that Sunday where I cried like a child.) You just stand there. Hello? I call to you. You respond. You're quiet.

I touch you, you do nothing. No return. No nothing. (I haven't touched you, properly touched you, for months.) You just stand there. Hello? I call to you. You respond. You move away.

I say I love you. I say I love you, so ******* much. ( I love you.) Hello? I call to you.

You don't respond.
I recall writing this one. I think I spat out seven poems that day. Rough time.
drop me in the ocean,
let my arms wave.
let me drown
in the waters uncharted
and regained.
balloons floating above me,
filled with my unconscious dreams.
I struggle and tug at the strings strangling me
it all hurts so much
I'm starting to forget things
I'm starting to forget the really tiny details
The details that I would spend all night pondering
The tiny moments I cherished for so long
I'm starting to forget them
Which means I'm starting to forget you
And that scares the hell out of me
More than being alone
More than not finding love again
More than anything else
Forgetting you terrifies me.
{bcg}
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