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Ashley Moor Jan 8
Is it with
the strength
of my own two hands
that I crush
the bountiful
flowering petals
in the outstretched palms
of the women
who I love?
Does my towering
silently decay
their humanity—
their desire to reach
for anything beyond
my hips?
Tell me—
is there a way
to unclench
my fists
from around your lungs?
A way for my riotous
echo to be silenced?
Even if a cure
for this malady
I’m not sure
that I would ever
stick around to see it.
Leigh Marie Jan 6
There is power in knowing that I can disappear as quickly as I came
That I don’t need you need you  
There is power in holding interest cause I can lose it as fast as I found you
Being a magical woman means I can vanish before your eyes at the first sight of wavering
My body miraculous there is power in my smile
Srujanika Das Dec 2018
ice-cream soda,
bubbling effervescence
ice queen, flora
melting in summer sun
come home
to where you truly belong
in lush green meadows
open your heart
to let love in
true & unconditional

- srujanika
Written on December 16th 2018. A fun poem about love.
Louisa Coller Nov 2018
Must my jaw be firm,
to throw the first punch of a fight?

Must my hands be delicate,
to hold you tightly in my arms?

Must my voice be deep,
to show you how much I care?

Must my eyes be saddened,
to prove how much I want you there?
ACAC Nov 2018
As a woman, I am buried
I survive but I am buried
I can thrive but still buried
Now I the cut cord and become unburied
On a green leaf
For frogs
Illuminated by the surface under
There she sits on
A part
A piece I looked as a picture
Dazing wondrously and scouring with pairs
My sandals my feet my hands
All my fingers and nails
My ears
My toes of ten
and legs
Knees and my shoulders
The missing piece
or so i thought under
The afterthought
Full of doubters
For the plants grew all tall
None could be any taller
Dazzling danglers
A field under the stars.

Girly willed as am I
Which could not seem possible
Acceptance aches
Belief breaks
Even the words I speak, write or sing,
(Shall I
Hear it...)
over there it only echos
against the busy chatter and travels back home
Clogs *******
Reminding me that a life can be extinguished with mere
Disbelief and ignorance another pair...
Girly willed as I am
Nodding behind books
Fiction, fiction, fiction
They neigh
So here I go...
Thankful prayer as it did happen to us..
And all of it did
That it was I who did it.

Fuels of her pair
by flying passion and wild innocence
A human being
Limitless like the others
Why don't they not see? The rest, the stops,
The same scene, there is exactly the same scene...of falls.
If they just went out and did it, for a stretch and a walk,
Just grow out of leaves, be the branches printed of feathery crease
Because I am girly willed
Golden meadows lost to become treasure.
Fearless of rags she is as I am,
Laying afloat of the clouds, linen skies, seas and drifting through the weightless sand
Fearless forever.
A body made from the undying devotion was to be forgotten
Built by the memory of devotion's husband.

A swaying heritage
Under the surface
On a sleepy cloud made of forceful courage.
Her voice
The forest hovering
and all of life
From her glass lips of
The worldly wife.

Her weightless gold of skin
My saviour is a Queen.
Precious beyond anything,
Hey! her love is in everything.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
As women we are conditioned to love what breaks us
Because unconditional love isn’t a skill to be cultivated,
It’s an expectation we so painfully fill.

As women we are told that there is meaning in our silence.
That our beauty lies within what stays untold,
That our voices limit our inherent value.

As women we must mold ourselves
Into one of a hundred cookie cutter
Versions of the same person that
We deem an acceptable form of femininity.
They tell us that this is our identity
When really it’s a way to make ourselves

As women we must apologize for conformity
And we must apologize for breaking away.
The female population lacks the luxury
Of confidence without judgement
Because we fear it won’t make us as simple.

As women we are tailored to please the world.
The burden we carry aches with all of the moments
We wish we could have done something different and didn’t.
I am tired of the rules.
I am tired of the chains.
This is more political than my poems usually are but whatever
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