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Alfira N Nov 2021
am i a trophy
am i a crown
am i a flower
in your bouquet
do i shine
like a gold
in your eyes
you make me feel like a lifeless object
kiran goswami Oct 2021
My teacher, during the class said
"Women are Paralympians".
I had never heard a truer sentence.
carmen Oct 2021
sometimes i wonder about the kind of girl i would have grown up to be if my trauma had never ceased to exist.

if i had never spent decades of my youth trying to mold my imperfections to the male gazes' views on what it meant to be a lady. 

would i still have lived in the sin that led me to the wages of death or would i have lived freely with the spirit of the holy that showered me with serenity?

would i still have fought so hard for the freedom and solace that had never belonged to the violence of the patriarchy or would i have sat crossed legged in a chair like the woman my ancestors would have rendered me to be?

would i still have let the boys that masqueraded as men, see the forbidden depths of my God given body or would i have clothed myself with competence and capability? if my trauma had never ceased to exist, would this version of me just live to be seen as an example of who i never wanted to be?
i wasn’t quite sure what i’d name this poem but it is kind of personal to me.
Luke Lucci Sep 2021
Could this reality have been different with women in power,
From the eras of Caesar, of Stalin and Alexander.
Would children go without supplement and their mothers subjected to unwilling seed,
Envisioned a reality of women in power and men on their knees.
Would a system that’s shrouded in malignancies be fair and modest posses such corruption,
Having been birthed for wasteful capitalism and upheld in contention.
Half a century of genocide, of colonialism and greed.
Continue to suffer at the hand of man, left used, discarded to plead.
It is often said that crisis brings clarity when you’re living in a mans world,
To tolerate such dominance, allowing your voices to go unheard.
Copyright © 2021
Anne Sep 2021
they don't look like me.
those girls
with their *******
and baby teeth.

pink daisy chains,
sweet blubbering.
joyful hearts swollen,
i can feel them.

i smell a childhood memory,
she loves mornings.
the one in red
kisses her puppy,
sleeps in braided hair.

under your gaze,
they'll be paper forever.
and me?
am i tree bark to you?
do i still exist
while i'm gone?

peekaboo.

baby i've called you,
thus baby you've become.
my ******* are sore,
i've run dry of milk.

photographs don't bleed.
**** on something else for dinner.
but i insist,
keep tripping over
that tail of yours.
i find it rather funny.
Philomena Sep 2021
I seek refuge from my womanhood I run into the dark corners of what is feminism and found no solace, equality does not belong to my skin, sisterhood extended out of pity as if any love could erase the past, at times i wonder if i am just a way to ease their shame, if the kindness is a payment to my ancestors whose screams i can still hear as their womanhood is defiled, i often get caught between hate and the truth neither make me feel any better, and both can't be denied ,
p.W.
Elaenor Aisling Sep 2021
First,
dress yourself in all black
no bright colors
that draw wandering eyes.
Wear the only baseball cap you own
position your pony tail
so the brim shields most of your face
but you still have enough peripheral vision
to look over your shoulder.
Move the ring you have worn on your right hand
since you were 16,
to the left ring finger.
You cannot tell the difference
between those who will leave
when there is a shadow of another man
and those who will see it as a challenge.

Second,
arm yourself.
Tie your small pocket knife into the waistband of your shorts,
last resort first.
Clip your keys to your bra
and tuck your mace canister
in the space between your *******
along with all the promises
of men who have loved you
and promised to protect you.


Third,
text your sister
tell her where you are going
and ask her to check on you
if you have not replied in an hour.
Keep one earbud out,
and do not get lost in the strains
of Tracy Chapman's voice, no matter how beautiful.
***** up your ears
the way you have seen a deer's twitch in twilight,
You both know what it is to be prey.

Fourth,
begin.
In your apartment complex
as you run across the green space,
there are children laughing,
and you feel safe enough.
Do not let this last.
When you reach the road
feel the power of your thighs beneath you
as you sprint across,
controlled sinew and muscle
you always wanted them to be strong enough
to kick a hole in brick.

Fifth,
slip your mace out of your bra
and into your fist
while you sprint through the wooded drive.
In your mind, practice screaming
FIRE! HELP! GET THE **** AWAY FROM ME!
until your vocal chords are in imagined shreds.

Sixth,
Pace yourself.
You know if you are too tired,
you cannot outrun someone.
Your lungs will give out before your legs do,
breathe deep, and pull your shoulders back.
You have never swung a punch
at another human
but you imagine what it would be like,
the bones of your knuckles
breaking across a zygomatic arch.

Seventh,
When you pass others
do not meet their eyes, do not smile.
Under the imagined safety of your hat brim
keep your eyes on the sidewalk and their feet,
in case they turn toward you.
Remember where the parents with children are walking
because they will be a safe haven to run to.
When there is no one in front of you,
look over your shoulder.


Eighth,
On your way back through the wooded drive
when Judges 19:25
the news reports of gang rapes on buses,
Kitty Genovese, and the voices of all the women you know
who have been harassed and *****, flash through your mind
run faster.

Ninth,
text your sister that you are safe
only when you are back in your apartment
and the door is locked,
and you are sure no one has come in
while you were out.
Kiss the salt from your skin
and thank your body
for its
strength.
when you towered over my bleeding body
bruised,
broken,
weakened
my fractures made you stronger
my vulnerability kept you secure
the bleeding stopped
The bones all healed
the bruises faded away
but you're still beating women down
long after i walked away
i had the strength to leave
i had enough self respect to survive
not every woman has that in her
that haunts me, even now
after all this time
i wonder who is in your trap
trying desperately to get free
sometimes i think i hear her whisper
sometimes i hear her calling me
i know you are towering over her
i know you think you've got the power
but you don't know the endurance
that comes from being female
babe, i'm on a rescue mission
we've got numbers on you now
we've got numbers on you now
I am female so it is hard to be respected

I am female so it is hard to feel safe

I am female so I am naturally guarded

I am female so I am locked in a cage

I am female so I am built like a soldier

I am female so my voice has been silenced

I am female so I can't  breast feed in public

I am female so I am no stranger to violence

I am female so it is hard to be respected

I am female so my body is public property

I am female so my life is one long  battle

I am female so the odds are against me
it is hard to be respected
Mitch Prax Aug 2021
There is nothing more
powerful than a woman
who's realized her worth

10:15 AM
12/8/21
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