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Eleni Jun 2017
The moon is howling
at the wolf now whole.
Inside of my
Transparent skull.

It is the hour of hunting;
Of flesh-eating packs
But what is it they are wanting?
Hare blood stains the train tracks.

Those wraiths are ravenous
They are forming inside my head
Scandalous, ominous
They gather around my bed.

She's the alpha hound
Looks me in the eye:
Showing dominance crowned
And my end is nearby.
A collaboration with Gabriel burnS who put together that beautiful opening stanza. Please check out his excellent poetry! I'm am very grateful to have had his guidance.
Is your ego abused? Should I apologize for not wanting to live as a trophy on your wall of women hung out to dry? Is your ***** hurting because I dare say NO? As if my ****** is the only cure for your savage behavior. Should I apologize for being female? A black female with curves so dangerous if I got wet you might slip and fall, breaking apart your massive ego?

Is your need for dominance anything out of the ordinary? Because men will be men and they don't deserve to be punished for being men. Right? Because I asked for it, Right? Because my shorts in this heated summer day is a plea to be ****** right? Because my ******* do not belong to me and if I dare go without a bra, it is seen as a neon flashing light signaling my readiness for your **** right?

Young boys sit back and watch in awh as Fred establishes his dominance over Wilma. They watch learning the ways of cavemen. this, these cartoons are teaching these young boys to treat women as inferior and teaching our young girls to know their place as a housewife with no say.

From the beginning we are taught that our consent does not matter. We are supposed to behave like a woman or get ****** and left out to die like trash lift for the raccoons to rampage through. From the beginning we are taught that our voices do not matter and men will be men. So therefore we must bend over backwards to accommodate them or be bend over backwards by them.

No wonder women are scared to speak out. I was afraid to speak for fear that my voice would be washed away with the tide never to return to it's bold state. Besides my friend, that one professor whom I sometimes think is too good for this world and the counselor she talked me into seeing. No one else knows.

No one else knows how my knees rubbed against the dirt laced with tiny rocks and sticks. Or how I cringed when his ***** exploded in my mouth leaving behind a taste so bitter, black licorice could not compare. Or how I could not get on my knees in the first place because the only time I got on my knees was to pray to a God I only hoped was listening. But where was that God when this boy put me down on my knees and told me I had to. Told me this was the only way of redemption.

That naive young girl was on her knees in the dirt because she did not know she could say NO. I felt as if saying no could get me hurt or worst ruin what fragile reputation I held onto and 14 year old me could not withstand the blow.

Within those 10 minutes it took for him to be pleasured, I silently prayed and prayed that God would let this boy know how wrong it was or will him to stop. I prayed to a God I was taught watches over all his children. To a God whom didn't care of your sins as long as you repent. But that God was nowhere to be found.

I held back my tears as my neck when back and forth like a chicken pecking at it's only source of survival. I didn't cry when I choked on it and gagged for air because within that moment he made himself my savior. He feed me my daily bread with a smile upon his face.

No one knew about this moment, how I held back tears when he told me it was good for my fist time. How I held a brave face when I climbed the bus that morning with a white stain on my purple dress. I told no one because I believed i liked it because my constant was not needed so I must have approved. Right?

So I ask you. Does me saying no to you damage your ego? Does my no mean nothing to you as if no means yes in the fantasy world you live in. My silence is does not enable you to go forth and conquer my wondrous lands. it is not permission for you cross my flooded seas and take refuge within me. I will not apologize for being a woman in charge of her body.
gleck Sep 2016
Children get handed things easily,
and they learn
that it's easier to throw away
than to hold on and keep it.

Adults are very different,
they cherish things
and would not objectify others
since humans are not things.

But right there,
throwing you away
like an object,
the man who was no longer a child said;

"I don't want you anymore"
You're telling me what to do,
Bossin' me around like I don't have a clue,
Force is the only weapon you choose,
Can't relax in this noose,
Physical abuse.

My inner demon gets loose,
Fills my brain with it's bruise,
I need some good news,
But seem destined to lose.

In a fight with you,
You'll always win,
It's such a sin,
But it's how it's always been,
I want to make your head spin,
Spin till you lose that grin.
Sian Mathers Jul 2016
Submission
He owns my body.
He owns my heart.
When he’s displeased,
My whole world falls apart

When he’s satisfied by my efforts,
I’m overwhelmed with joy.
Though often mixed with anxiety,
In case inadvertently annoy.

For him i will change,
To almost anything he requires,
For now my only life goal,
Is to be all that he desires.

I will take almost any pain inflicted.
Hold each predicament position.
As he knows the key to my heart,
Is the key to my submission.

So yes I will take any punishment,
In anyway he sees fit.
For him i won’t fight it.
For him i will SUBMIT.

Cweeta Cwumble Apr 2016
I.

Blurry green and brown shapes rush past me
at the speed of light, i spin around and around.
Trees, people and playground equipment blend together
in a whirlwind, i am spinning around so fast
i think i might die.
My small hands grip the edges of the black rubber tire.
i squeeze my eyes shut,
thinking that might make the dizziness stop
but it only makes it worse. Pain enters
my fingertips - my arms are ripping apart.
Still, i hold on. i’m afraid
that if i let go my head will hit the ground and my neck will snap.
i hear my brother’s laughter swirling around my head.
i want to beg him to stop the spinning
but i know that crying and pleading only makes this game last longer.
When i asked him to play this wasn’t what i had in mind.
So i wait quietly.
This will all be over soon.

II.

Darkness is all around me.
The one tiny hole near the lid of the toy box allows
only a sliver of light into my little wooden prison.
i run my fingers along the dark walls
beside me and all around me, feeling
the grains of the unfinished wood.
My finger catches a sliver and it stings
but i don’t cry because
crying only makes this game last longer.
The old toy box groans under the weight of my brother’s body.
i can hear his fingers mashing the Nintendo controller
and his feet kicking against the outside of the box.
When i asked him to play, this wasn’t what i had in mind.
If i wait quietly, he will eventually get bored
and this will all be over soon.

III.

The grass is wet and yucky underneath
my body, cold and slimy.
Rows of houses watch in judgement
against black suburban sky,
their inhabitants fast asleep and safe in their beds
while i lie here with this strange man’s ***** hands around my neck.
How did i get here? A few too many rounds
of *****-fueled drinking games,
each sip burning up a piece of my awareness
until all i can comprehend is his heavy body
on top of me, his cold, unfamiliar eyes.
When i asked him to play, this wasn’t what i had in mind.
Each time my ragdoll head smacks the ground,
the sickening sound bounces between my eardrums.
He could easily ragdoll me to death.
i pray someone will step outside and end this game,
but screaming will only make him panic,
and wild animals can be unpredictable when cornered.
So i wait quietly and hope
this will all be over soon.
Katie Perner Jan 2016
How little you know,
you poor ignorant soul.
You spoke with a mouth full of hate,
your body shook with might
as you tried to instill me with a certain fright
as if I might finally bow down to your glory,
kiss your feet, and say that I am sorry.
Yet here I stand,
the knife in my hand,
it is my turn to tell you the story
of how I became so grand!
Your words filled me with a certain spiteful motivation,
one that has led me to a compelling revelation!
I now have you in my hands,
you are now mine!
You shall see,
you poor little flea,
you are only but a pest!
You have no influence over me!
Nobody can deny my power as I watch you cower,
you poor pathetic pest,
now you kiss thy feet!
-k.p. 11.27.15-
This is one of my pieces I would like to perform one day.
Kalon R Dec 2015
*** is dominance
Nothing more and
Nothing less.
It's all about knowing
How I can get away
With theft.
I will stab and probe
Run around the world
And palm that globe.
I am your master
You will do as I say.
I will dominate and hurt you
I don't care what you say.
I run your world when I caress your back,
I make you feel whole
And give you everything you lack.
I treat you like ****
But you still come back.
All because *** is dominance
And I dominate you.
"****** behavior, in human culture, is always about something more than pleasure and/or reproduction: it's often about forms of power and dominance"
Steele Nov 2015
Hear the sound of
the sprinklers throwing
water on the fresh green grass.
Hear the sound of the birds
chirping in the trees,
praising the Sun
and it's bright shine.
Hear the sound of my
voice and listen, closely,
feeling my words
almost as vividly as
your own heartbeat.
Take it in, consume it carefully.
Let go of your mind and
experience this, fully.

Allow me to paint
these pictures in your mind,
and frame them with
your memory.
Allow me to see into your soul
and conquer you
until you lose yourself in me.
Give me intimacy.
Drop down your evening
gown and show me what
lies beneath;
your naked soul
has no control.
I'll be the catalyst
to curing your grief.
© 2015 Sebastian Glyn
Peartini Nov 2015
He's my Fleur de lis
My hot fantasy
In charge
On large responsibility
To me For me By Me
Into me
His mouth His ***** H I S
Not his turn His Property I
Tap it Turn it Wake me up
****** Romantic Redemantic
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