Women should accommodate for men
Watch life through their lens
Follow the latest a trends
But most of all accommodate for your boyfriends

On men's magazines you see a body builder
A pillar, a vacuum, ******* in space
Toned and cloned
But women must have grace
On a women's magazine you see weight loss
Clearly we cannot be the boss
Go apply your lipgloss

My advice is reclaim your thrones and space
Apply your war paint
**** restraint
Do not let them encase you
In a glossy magazine
Do not let them erase your face
Climb up this staircase
Pick up your mace
Smash the glass ceiling

Do not accommodate for their feelings
Make them beg your forgiveness kneeling

Women should accommodate for their ego
Like a snake it wounds around your body
Tightening and restricting
Constricting your opinion
To give way for their dominion

**** them
**** all who stand in your way
Make them pay
For the way they made you purvey and obey
This is a new day
Today women should accommodate for the their own ******* selves
Not placed on bookshelves

Our advice is loose a few pounds
You're too round, they said
They frowned and drowned your silhouette
We'll kick you to the ground

Our advice is take up less space
Women with grace should know their place
You're a disgrace
A women should not leave a trace,
For this is a mans place

Our advice is speak less
Your opinions are too excess
Just go fix your dress
You have men to impress
Don't depress them with your free thoughts

Our advice is cater to your surroundings
These stings of femininity are your duty
But you see you cannot flee
They key to your freedom
Hangs around the neck of ****
Beaten till you're numb
Look what I've become
Come come, look what you've made us do
Beat you till you're blue, because you flew

My advice is, crush the bones of your oppressors
Put on your armours, grab your spurs
Smash the words of your oppressors
You deserve answers not slurs

My advice is gracefully place your furs on your throne, built of their souls
Throw away their scrolls into the coals
Admire the fire within your porcelain chest
And create a bonfire for the blessed

Their advice is done, you are no longer their nun
Now teach these to your son
Or he may too be, thrown into the sun.

-CP.

A rose is soft
A rose smells sweet
A rose has thorns
A rose grows tall
A rose is pretty
But boy, I am no rose.

I am not a fragile flower
I am not so sweet
My thorns are not so obvious
And how dare you imply
That I am as simple as a rose

For a rose will die
It cannot survive the storm
A rose will crumble
In the summer heat
I am not so weak  

My skin is rough from work
Not soft like a rose
And I doubt you have ever
Brought a rose's petals
Up to your ignorant nose

A rose does not have blemishes
Or scars or character
Like I do. No a flower
Does not think for itself
I will never be like a rose for you

You call me rose
Because I am a girl
But a girl is not a flower
And this girl does not like flowers
So do not utter
The stereotypical words
You think (without much thought)
I must want to hear
If you do I will throw that rose on to the dirt and stomp on it.

I am not a rose.

We are imperfect products
placed in the midst
of an imperfect society,
a vicious cycle of perseverance
and failure:
constructed,
broken,
fixed,
and fixed again.

Airbrushed and painted
to perfection:
pale skin
flushed cheeks
slim legs
and a smooth mindset.
Opinionated only
on the matter of
superficial products –
glamorizing and embellishing.

Deteriorating enamel –
cracks in a varnished frame.
A scratched surface,
damaged to the core,
polished and glazed over.
Skin made paler,
cheeks more flushed,
skin and bones,
and a mind wiped clean.

Unachievable expectations
and inevitable failure
are enough to b r e a k
even the toughest material

d
o
w
n.

We are the curvy girls.
Reubenesque, if you will.
Society calls us “fat girls”
And they treat us like a plague.
To school nurses, we may as well be lepers
The media is more tactful,
And pretends that we aren’t here at all.

Today I went walking in the woods.
I wore a dress and a flower crown
And the wind picked up my hair
And right then I knew I was beautiful.

But then I came back home
And suddenly
I didn’t know anything at all.

“We are beautiful, in every single way.
And words can’t bring us down.”
Only sometimes they can.

It hurts
When you see your grandfather for the first time in months
And he asks if you’ve lost weight.
You haven’t.
It’s just that he remembers you as the “fat grandchild”
And his vision of you is warped.

“Sticks and stones may break our bones,
But words will never hurt us.”
Only sometimes they will.

It hurts
When you’re among friends
And you pick up a size 6’ or an 8’ at a clothing store
And they ask if you’re sure it’s big enough
Like you don’t have experience with these things
Like you’re the delusional one.

“We are beautiful, in every single way.
And words can’t bring us down”
Only sometimes they can.

It hurts
When you’re eating lunch with your very own mother
And you order something that isn’t a salad
And she shakes her head disapprovingly
And hisses that you need to be more careful
As if it’s that easy

“Sticks and stones may break our bones,
But words will never hurt us.”
Only sometimes they will.

It hurts
When you’re among friends
And in a fit of mental anguish, you call yourself fat
And it takes them
just a little too long
To refute it

When I went walking in the woods
With my dress and my flower crown and the blowing wind
I knew I was beautiful
But the world tries to make me forget

“We are beautiful, in every single way.
And words can’t bring us down”

But sometimes, that’s hard to remember

your eyes are not oceans
and you are not a natural disaster
you are manmade and you will topple
and i will be the one to topple you
because you are a literal bag of human ****
and if you think that telling me
that i deserve ****
will impress your fellow man friends,
you had better watch the **** out
because i am coming for you with a taser
and a buzzsaw
your mra t-shirts can't help you now,
****

The seed of jealousy is a powerful thing
It grows when fed things you see,
Things you think you could potentially have but don’t
Things that shake your security and foundation

It makes you hateful and bitter
It makes you weak and passive
It makes you do things you shouldn’t do
Like hurt people
And lie

When I heard her first fake laugh it made me nervous
Her subtle insults made me afraid and not trust myself
So I thought and thought until my brains couldn’t take it
I gave it to someone else to sort out
The results came back: Yes, she wanted me gone but couldn’t tell me herself

So she would gaslight me
Passively say things that make me uncomfortable
And still delicately insult me, make me feel like I was wrong

I remembered I told her that women had done that before to drive me insane
She broke me down to frail my human heart
Tore me a part
Take out my bones and scratch, “You’re not worthy,” into them

What she didn’t understand is since I’ve been through it before
I could deal with it again
Much healthier, this time
I can reassemble myself just fine
Polish my bones and mend my skin myself

Because I won’t abuse drugs like she does
I have my hands to release all my energy
I can channel my rage through my voice
And scream louder than anyone knows
I show how I feel through words and images
My hands create and cleanse my world

I know I’ll be okay
It’s really her I’m sad for,
She doesn’t know how to take care of herself

Once I left, her kingdom of filth and loneliness piled up again
And she sat in her throne of 7-11 Styrofoam cups
Wearing her gown of fast food paper bags
Listening to the voices inside her head
Wanting to be loved again

He wants a sugar spun girl-
no lemon *****, no licorice, no peppermint.
Hard rock candy.

You gotta be sweet for him to crave you.
Sweet on the tongue, sweet on the eyes
in a package easy to tear, pop, unfold.

He likes it dayglo and with sprinkles,
marshmallow soft,
moldable and meltable ,
milk chocolate, white chocolate.
He shies away from bitterness.

Don't you dare fill him up.
He has a real meal waiting,
somewhere else, later.

Your job is
to be consumed.
What you need doesn't matter.

He wants candy, girl, not a meal.
Better sugar coat it,
or he won’t buy you
and you want to be bought,
don't you?

WE WILL STOP WRITING **** POEMS WHEN WE RUN OUT OF MATERIAL BUT UNTIL THEN WE WILL CONTINUE TO SAY WHAT NEEDS TO BE SAID TO THOSE WHO REALLY NEED TO HEAR IT BECAUSE THE HALT IN THE FLOW OF THE SCARLET RIVER DOES NOT MEAN WE ARE WEARING SCARLET LETTERS
DON'T EXPECT ME TO BREAK MY BONES FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT MY BONES BREAKING, MY HEAD SHAKING, AND MY HEART QUAKING
I AM SORRY THAT I AM ATHENA

I AM SMILING BECAUSE I CAN AND MY LIPS ARE NOT ENFLAMED FROM KISSING YOUR *** BUT FROM KISSING THE BOY WHO TOLD ME HE LOVED ME FROM THE BOTTOM OF HIS HEART, NOT THE TIP OF HIS ****,  AND MEANT IT
I AM LAUGHING AT YOUR VIRGINITY THAT YOU ARE SO PROUD OF BECAUSE MINE NEVER EXISTED, AND NEITHER DID THOSE OF YOUR BELOVED ADAM AND EVE
AND I AM ATHENA

AS MY SCARLET RIVER BEGINS TO FLOW AGAIN, THE HANDS OF GOD RETRACT BACK TO THE SHADOWS HE IS NOT HER GOD, BUT HERR GOD
MY BAD FOR THINKING THAT HE WAS OURS
I SHOULD NOT BE LIVING IN FEAR BECAUSE I AM ATHENA

THE PATRIARCH QUESTIONS MY BODY AND MAKES ME ASHAMED OF MY NATURAL ANATOMY
AND I AM SORRY THAT MY BODY UNDERGOES PROCESSES AS NATURAL AS ******* PHOTOSYNTHESIS
BUT IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT YOU FORGOT THAT THE LAST TIME YOU ****** OFF
BUT DON'T FORGET THAT I AM ATHENA
GO AHEAD AND COMPLAIN ABOUT MY ENDLESS PREACHING BUT THIS IS NOT MY FIRST **** POEM AND IT IS DEFNITIELY NOT MY LAST
BECAUSE THERE IS SOMETHING TO BE SAID WHEN ROBIN THICKE CAN SAY HE HAS A BIG **** YET I CANNOT WEAR A SPAGHETTI STRAP TO SCHOOL
AND GOD FORBID I HAVE TO *** AT A PARTY, YOU'LL JUST POISON ME INTO YOUR SHEETS
AND IF BY CHANCE I MAKE IT OUT OF THAT PARTY ALIVE, I CAN'T WALK DOWN THE STREET AT NIGHT WITHOUT MY KEYS SCRAPING THE CREVICES OF MY FINGERS
REMEMBER WHEN NO MEANT NO? AND STOP DID NOT MEAN GO?
I AM ATHENA BECAUSE I NEED TO BE PLEASE DON'T TURN INTO HEPHAESTUS