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  May 2017 Sophie
jack of spades
we got dressed up for dinner but didn’t go to the dance
it was prom night and we were wasting time in my friend’s basement
when the question was asked:
how many men in your life are you comfortable around?
‘well,’ we said, ‘what do we mean by comfortable?'
we defined it like this:
how many men in your life could hug you
without making you flinch?
none of us had more than a handful, ticking names with our fingertips.
my total was two-point-five:
because i’d trust my dad with my life in the way that
you have to question authority to know that it’s right,
so i don’t ever **** away in fear from his familial touch.
(i’m the only one of us whose father makes the cut.)
the second name on my list is a kid from AP physics.
his name is trent and i’ve had a platonic crush on him for like a year.
we’ve bonded this year over math socks and clorox and death jokes.
(a few hours after this basement conversation,
we’re going to an afterparty and he yells my name
from across the parking lot;
we meet each other, running, and he collides into me with joy.
i don’t flinch away— i meet him half-way.)
the point five is
tricky
see, half the time, my brother grabs me and it terrifies me,
begging for him to just let go because he’s hurting me,
i don’t like tickling because it leads to panic attacks—
i don’t like unsolicited men touching me let go of me let go of me.
when my brother reaches for me, i flinch—
half the time.
but when he wants to actually hug me,
he just lifts one arm from his side and lets me tuck myself
under his shoulder, loose and gentle and loving, like good siblings.
half the time, my brother is reaching, and that is terrifying.
half the time, my brother is offering, and that is comforting.

how many men in your life could hug you without making you flinch?
take
a minute to think about it, it takes a lot of reflection.
a man without boundaries,
who takes what he wants and touches you when he wants to,
a man who doesn’t care that i’m flinching—
rapists and assailants don’t have boundaries,
they don’t listen when you say stop let go of me let go—
how terrifying it is for someone you know to just
grab you whenever he wants to.
i don’t want your hyper-masculine hands touching me without asking.
not unless you’re part of my two-point-five person list.
otherwise, you're just going to make me flinch.
speed write: 10 minutes
  May 2017 Sophie
jack of spades
i'm scared of a lot of things like clowns and spiders which sounds kind of normal but my room used to be infested i felt them crawl across my face with all eight legs while i laid awake in the summer heat i'm scared that my closet will be covered in cobwebs and skeletons;

i'm scared of airplane bathrooms.
my reflection doesn't look quite right in them
after eleven hours in the air
the bruises get so deep under my eyes
like i'm already zombified--
listless and tired and craving for something that
doesn't have a name;
i'm scared of not having a name
because then i won't be a person and it's
already hard pretending to be a person
so what happens if i lose that part of me
and stop being a person
without a name and without a face like how
airplane bathrooms always blur out my face
like how
airplane bathrooms always whisper my name
from the corners of my sleep-deprived brain
i can't keep my eyes focused straight
without a name without a name without a
faceless spiders crawling and
clowns and skeletons looking out from my closet--
i'm scared of a lot of things, normal things, like
clowns and spiders and not having an identity.
"here's some grammar" this ***** empty! YEET!
Sophie Apr 2016
how can you miss someone that you haven't met?
the thing you're truly longing for
Sophie Mar 2016
winds blow quietly with the whisper of your name
and the rain falls down gently to imitate your touch
but the pulling in my chest from a catalyst
just doesn't stop with this constant reminder
that i'm gone
and you're
happy
god forbid me to feel like this again and again
  Mar 2016 Sophie
embla
How dare you laugh at my faults when you're the epitome of human failure?
  Mar 2016 Sophie
hfallahpour
Woman
an anthropomorphic angel
with infinite passion
who can hardly be discerned,
you have yet to learn
to find out what her heart really yearns
Woman
an emblem of abnegation
who can hardly be discerned,
you have yet to learn
to discern her concern
Woman**
an anthropomorphic angel
with womanly intuition,
Who can hardly be discerned
whether she is ethereal or earthy?
  Mar 2016 Sophie
Poetria
Write with what you have,
even if it isn't the best.
Write with all your might,
Create wonders, feel that pride.
Write as is your right,
Let your spirit breathe again.

*Every word written
goes down in history
As a flower blooming
in the fields of poetry.
I delete half of what I create purely out of self-doubt. I'm sure I'm not the only one.
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