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Zack Ripley Mar 2022
it always seems that life is happy to remind you
that it doesn't owe you anything.
it doesn't owe you happiness.
or friends.
it doesn't even owe you an explanation
of what happens at the end of your story.
but guess what?
you don't owe life anything either.
you don't owe anything to anyone except yourself.
it's your time. your happiness. your choice.
because it is your story.
alexis Jan 2022
humanity is at constant odds with freedom.

it varies in definition – one man’s liberty is another’s snare. there is so much that is preconceived, that precedes and influences human thought, it makes freedom seem self-indulgent — a vehicle for ego-stroking and inflated sense of purpose.

freedom is simpler for others. it’s the one objective way to live — it’s the only way to live.

and maybe i’ve become too accustomed to the weight on my wrists that i refused you, vehemently opposed a chance to fly out from my cage into the new world. was i supposed to be thankful? i didn’t even know i had wings.

you released my usual tight ponytail from her tower upon my crown. black waves crashed upon the shore of my shoulders, i couldn't help but feel drowned in them.

you bared my skin from the safety of my clothes. you assured me that your touch was better armor for me. but there’s not enough free flesh of yours to cover what i wish to hide. a small ice age passed through the room every night, chilling me so deeply that not even your cloying warmth can stop the shiver of disdain traveling my spine.

you freed me from the comfort i used to have. you relinquished me from the safety of being me.

i tried to see everyday as a chance to grow comfortable, and everyday i had no choice but to be a stranger my own house because every chair was taken by your wants and every wall painted with your desires over mine that there was only standing room left for me.

i felt liberated in the way a captive animal roams its enclosure. i was king of a small domain, but a pawn to a larger kingdom. but i’d much rather liken your love to being an animal lead to slaughter with no wool over its eyes. it’s freeing, just not in the way you’d want.

when i finally gathered enough scraps of courage to tie my hair up again and sheathe myself in layers, i retreated back to my cage, not with my tail between my legs but the feathers on my chest ruffled with pride.

i believe more now than ever that freedom exists in the captivity of self. let me throw away the key and waste away in comfort.
Lucius Furius Dec 2021
When the cold seeps through your skin,
thinking how many times you've walked here alone
when you might have been lying in the arms of lovers,
warm and comforting,
don't sit there shivering.
You weren't meant for those chains.
You were meant to rise on cool mornings
and swim in deep, clear ponds,
to walk along mountains
and stand at the edges of cliffs,
to gaze at stars --
drawing strength from their fiery motion.
Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem: .
This poem is part of the Scraps of Faith collection of poems ( )
AE Oct 2021
To be a woman, in today’s world,
that stretches into the writing of a tomorrow’s world,
a world that feels so absolute in its reckoning
feels like a mountain that cannot be climbed.
I pray that you find some sliver of beauty
in the moonlight that chases you,
and the stars that kiss your forehead
when you sleep with your big dreams.
I pray you don’t let those dreams flow off your palms
into a river stream when this world threatens you with its cold air
You hold onto them tightly
because even with their singular light
the shadow you leave behind,
so big and strong – a fearless fighter
you stretch into the writing of your world
and your light brings me to write of you
in awe.
kevin wright Oct 2021
On engendered knee
I doft before the esse
The ✋of  endearment alightens my being
In life we will experience such a sense of giving
Spicy Digits Feb 2021
I berated her
But she was stronger than me

I put pressure on her
But she was always magnificent

I judged her harshly
But she was always right

I tried to control her
But we both wanted freedom

I made her weep
But she made me see

I kept her locked away
But she survives

I tried to quiet her
But she sang, she danced

I asked her to take the lead
She said there's none to take

I mistrusted her
She waited patiently

I wore my checkered suit
She wore nothing but jewels

I spoke to her timidly
And she answered eagerly

I invited her in
And we arrived.
SiouxF Aug 2021
Whatever you say about me,
Whether you judge me,
Or condemn me,
I really don’t care.

I may choose to wear green with blue,
Or pink with red,
And a large straw hat.
Don a posh dress to the shops,
Or T-shirt and jeans to the opera.
I may sing in the street,
And dance in the rain.
I may stay up all night,
And sleep all day.
Work from bed in pyjamas,
Or take the day off
And swim in the sea.
I may laugh at your anger,
And cry at your humour.
Be assertive and strong,
Or bossy and proud,
Take a stand for what I believe,
Or simply let things pass me by.
I may be single and sexually active,
Or marry and abstain,
Or switch between the two.
I may be the life and soul of the party,
Or people watch from the fringe.
I may chat ten to the dozen,
Or say nothing at all.
I may spend time in your company,
Or decline for my own.
I may stay...
Or I may walk away.

It’s my life,
My choices,
My desire,
To do and be who I want day by day,
And which I choose is fine by me.

So whatever you say about me,
However you judge or condemn,
I simply don’t care!
For I’m Unapologetically
SiouxF Aug 2021
Is that me?
Is that really me?
That girl in the photo?
The one standing in her power,
Wrapped in chiffon and little else,
Looking confidently towards the future,
With her hands on her hips
And a glint in her eye,
SiouxF Aug 2021
No more a scrap of a girl
Retreating in her shell,
No more a Cinderella
Not invited to the ball,
No more a lady in waiting
Hiding in the wings,
For I have cast off my cloak of shame and despair,
And I stand here now
As a fully fledged 51 year old
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