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aye-way 1d
your hair smells like coconut
your nipples are the prettiest brown
your eyes are the sun. oh light.
your jungle of curls are adorned by golden crown.
"my queen"
"i submit"
(c) ayesha. h [2o18]
Olive 2d
I decided I was in love with you
because you told me it was okay
that I struck out every time in baseball,
and because you didn't pick me last
when you were team captain.
But why was that all it took
for me to declare my love for a boy?
This poem is a part of a project documenting small but significant memories in a character's life.
Olive 2d
I had a favorite shirt
with pictures of cute dogs on it.
But you told me
that girls shouldn't wear shirts like that to church
because it wasn't pretty enough.
I never wore it to church again.

I never wore it again.
This poem is a part of a project documenting small but significant memories in a character's life.
Olive 2d
All I remember about you
is your first name
and that I laughed at you a lot.
But you were a little mean.
I didn't even think you were funny,
but I felt like I had to laugh.
Why did I feel like I had to laugh?
This poem is a part of a project documenting small but significant memories in a character's life.
Olive 2d
You were the only boy I knew,
so I figured we would probably have  to get married
and that was all I knew.
We used to hide in the bushes behind your house
And pretend we were married.
This poem is a part of a project documenting small but significant memories in a character's life.
“I bet she’s good in bed”;
That’s what they said.
As she walked past alone;
On her way home.
From her job at the bar;
Where every guy;
Near and far.
Seems to think it’s okay;
To grab her all day.

When she gets home;
The messages she reads.
The pictures she’s sent;
“you’d look good on your knees’.
On the bus to the shops;
On this guy hops.
Stand right beside her;
Like a tall lanky spider.
Brushes her top;
Just as the bus stops.

She just wants to live;
She just wants to breath.
Without having these men;
Cling on like disease.
She just wants to be;
She just wants to see.
What it’s like for a day;
To come what may.

Without the glance of a man;
Without that penetrating gaze.
She just wants to go home;
Without running a maze.
But that’s not how it is;
It’s really not fair.
She knows that each day;
Each hour, each minute.
Could be her last second;
So why even begin it?

You see what you’ve done?
With your lustful ‘fun’.
You’ve told her she’s meat;
Just there for you in heat.
And like meat to slaughter;
A father loses his daughter.
Well done son;
You’ve had your fun.
I used to be able to see from both sides of the argument.
I had my opinion
And I respected the other.
In a discussion,
I’d say where I sided
And then I’d politely say,
“But I understand the other side.”
I tried so hard not to step on any toes.
Even if they didn’t.
But I can’t do it anymore.

I am done being afraid of hurting their feelings
When they obviously don’t care about others.
When they think it’s okay to risk
The physical health
Mental health
Lives
Of women everywhere.

I guess they just don’t understand.
Pro choice isn’t pro abortion.
We just want you to be able to choose.
We just want to stay. Out. Of. Your. Business.
But they
They want to take away basic human rights.
They don’t care about you.
You’re an unprepared mother or a murderer.
You could prevent a difficult life for your future kid
Or you could both suffer.
That is what they prefer.

They don’t think about how
Abortion won’t just disappear.
They don’t care that it’ll just get more dangerous.
When other people have more rights
To our bodies than we do,
We have to sneak around to get them back.
Even if it could kill us.

I have run out of patience for the other side.
I have run out of patience for those who don’t believe in autonomy.
I have run out of patience for those who believe their say in another’s trauma
Matters more than the person who’s being affected.
I have run out of patience trying to understand them.
Trying to understand their desire
To rip and tear away our rights.
I have run out of patience for their ideals.
I am unapologetically outraged.

Because if they win the fight,
We are the ones who come out bleeding.
The magic was buried, his mother began
according to his dream to set out the fat,
they read it and they understand the shore,
standing up, he took hold of his harlot that
he hast the power to lay aside her tits in
the garden of the art of poetry; the city
is almost empty, Maecenas merits to be
among the saints to live in the glory
of the gospel, to live long-haired,
I know the crazy part of the hot water
is calling for the toes of course lean ladies'
thin painting of the skin having their
foundations carried off to sound with a fool,
animosity, the knees, the public thinks
in the abstract, yeh, right; monstrous
that the very sight of the flames of the rising
of the dawning of the day of the earth
is the kiss of the girl, he felt the darkness
of torment had been broken by the brown
winds in Sodom with leather to death,
loved by an old woman of Holy Orders
during the summer heat; Lori, a teenager,
talking sex to the businessman began
to walk someone else that looked like
Clare to Satan, and May his dick
sweat be just the same as a drink
with a nail in it, rain not in Asia,
propaganda, halted, took her by the
red eyes and opened his penis on drugs
collectively, and the bra pictures
were a reward to her vagina;
                                    We will call you
RJ Days Oct 6
Girls will be girls
they’ll sing and dance
so boys can’t help but grab
girls right in their underpants

Girls will be girls
they’ll flirt and sass
but they never fart
‘cause they aren’t crass

Girls will be girls
they’ll study hard
to seduce the boys
who’ll mow the yard

Girls will be girls
they’ll say no and stop
but we won’t believe them:
the boys are cops!

Girls will be girls
they’ll cook and clean
and raise the kids
but must stay lean

Girls will be girls
they’ll work all day
and take home just part
of what boys are paid

Girls will be girls
they’ll talk and chat
but then get hysterical
when boys call them fat

Girls will be girls
they’ll wear nice dresses
and never soil them
wiping up boys’ messes

Girls will be girls
they’ll run and vote
while boys drink beer
and win and gloat

Girls will be girls
and we know what that means:
they must always smile
and never scream

Girls will be girls
so let’s hope and pray
that girls are girls enough to save
this fucked up world
we boys have made.
Tara Oct 5
I didn’t even blink when everything around me started drowning,
maybe because I was already knee deep.

You can’t prevent the inevitable.
They say you can fight it,
but that’s a myth.

You’ll survive it,
but only once you’ve given up.

Haven’t you heard, “if the current takes you out to sea, don’t fight it, just let yourself be.”
Sometimes life’s that current,
and the only thing to do is let yourself be.

Stop punching walls that don’t exist.
Yelling at ghosts won’t change the past.
Hurting yourself won’t make anyone love you more than they do.

There’s only so much people can give,
and not every flower will be yours,
and not every heart will be yours.

Don’t break yourself down to make the pieces fit into someone else's puzzle.
I don’t need to remind you how long it takes to rebuild yourself
every time you breakdown.

We’re no ones sacrifice.
We’re no ones weapon.
We’re not here to drown in oceans of our own tears.
It seems that woman in our current society are constantly fighting for the recognition, acceptance, and respect from the rest of world. We are the ones called 'emotional', 'dramatic', 'excessive', and 'annoying' for simply expressing our feelings and demanding our rights. Theres this ideal woman society expects every woman to be disregarding the individuality of each human being. We need to stop falling into these norms that have been set up for us and separating ourselves from each other. There comes a time where we need to stand up together instead of dividing ourselves to fit into the world.
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