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Nik Bland Sep 2019
Machiavellian in the way you step
Sultry temptations
Slow drag on the coffin nail called life
Slight correlation
How sweet for the world to bend for you
Scuffed to the knees
With a smile reminiscent of crocodile
She walks dangerously
At threat in every sense of the word
Fluent in her wiles
Innovation in internal investigation
Transcends the mile
Deliberate in the introspective
Oil and grease the machine
Poised and confident to represent her perspective
Effectively
Morgan Alexander Sep 2019
I sit around chewing bubble gum
Its flavor dull, and flat.
I spit it out into the greasy, stained waste bin.
It stares back at me angrily, lying next to
Some brown boxes, random yard waste,
An oily blue rag, and a raging red
Hunk of plastic, which once was a fire engine,
My misery reflected in its misshapen contours.
I’m trapped in my world
Of fake “How-do-you-dos”
And tepid conversation about the weather.
Each day is an agony and every moment, surreal.
I cry for a body that is not mine.
My soul burns with each passing lie I tell someone
When they ask who I am.

I hate love songs, happy songs, and celebrations!
They are never for me.
They are the bubble gum I scrape off my shoe
As I walk down the aisle to watch the latest horror movie.
The violence on the screen,
Only slightly assuages the rage… in my female soul,
Bound for eternity in a hairy, meaty prison.
I always feel like ****!
A female mind forever warped
By this absurd male body.
The lies I tell become my little deaths.
Little deaths are pain and envy.
Pain and envy are like bubble gum…
Endlessly mashed together and sticky.

A woman sashays past me,
An unknowing feminine tyrant
Enjoying my salvation with the
Parting of her pretty red lips,
The sway of her baby-making hips,
And her graceful, yet sleek fingertips.
She delicately sits, her soft pleasant voice
Floats back up to me. Dysphoria level: CRITICAL!
She dictates my days and nights...
Inadvertently taunting me as she giggles with her friends.
But my eye’s long drinks
Of her crisp, cool water were never
About my thirst.

-MorganLA
I truly love women.
JaxSpade Aug 2019
The mood
Played a fiddle

With the music of a violin

I followed the same hips
To the tune of feminine

Then I mastered the gentle fiddling
And the plucks of pizzicato

Before the moon cried
Her desperate eyes

For the sound of a cello
Sarah Aug 2019
a strong silent power,
rising steady and certain.
putting in the honest work,
day in and day out.
our feminine nature
is the kind of persistent presence
that withstands, and outlasts
life's constant challenges.
eternally exceeding expectations,
we overcome, we succeed,
we grow.
Marina Aug 2019
Could it be your eyes i'm crazy for?-
but i can't help when I feel this way, wishing I can lay
with you; so now you're by my side and everything's alright.
I ask to do me well when I love you,
an letting the time settle
couldn't feel so good now.
skin on skin
Ashley Kaye Jul 2019
Your beauty may birth from shaved legs
red clown lips, gaudy eyeshadow
flimsy black crumbles beneath
your eyelid
You are ****-sun-kissed;
I am opaque.
Blotches of color
Lighten my smile

cheekbones never as sharp
as your words
July 2019
Heather Jun 2019
For all my life I’ve been a woman obsessed
With taking up as little space as possible
To shrink my waist
And sink my cheeks

I’ve been a woman obsessed
With being heard as little as possible
To bite my tongue and not interrupt
To keep the ******* curse words in

I’ve been a woman obsessed
With winning the hearts of others
To see the twinkle in their eye when they smile at me

But I am thick, and I am loud, and I forgot to love myself.
Khushi Sharma Jun 2019
She is locked in the world of expectations
Abided by laws and orders
She is instructed by many people and her friends
And is always a subject of manipulation.
She's always compared to her siblings
Always trying to do her best
She is never allowed to say a word
But could say,' everything is on the rest'.
She was not a mother
But knew what pain was
People tried to hide her
But never knew What a girl she was!
Oh girl! Don't think of those whom you have lost
'Cause you were killed before only
When your mother was.
She never knew who did it
But then realised her mother was dead
She never tried to know either
'Cause she knew it was her own d'd!
She finished her story with lines,
" My dad is alive and so is my mom,
   Her soul was dead when I was born."
Oh! Poor readers you won't get it
Who, her mother was
But one thing can be on deck
What a girl she was!
jayebird Jun 2019
Glass roses of blue
Cigarettes and amaretto
Served with milk tears
Candy giggles take it back
Build a house from
what's lacking
Break black ties and
Want to wear heels out
For no one but
The television and
Steam mangling in a box
I need to get off frail mind lines like
Dreading time
Loving this lipstick and
I am not a girl anymore
I filthy my own nest
And i'm blind as I am blessed
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