My eyes closed,
I say to myself
Someone must have placed a heavy metal object on the top of my stomach,
not knowing I'm a human who feels PAIN!
And that person in my mind keeps telling me
that he has kept it gently there.
I say, 'Hey! It's a metal object and it hurts anyway!'
Gathering up some energy,
I go to my table and sit in a chair
Skimming through the pages of my diary,
I try to write a poem,
when suddenly something kicks me from the inside,
keeps making me suffer until I stop.
No wonder I was trying to write about PERIOD CRAMPS!
There you go again!
These cramps are not just pain to my body
but some reminders that keep sneering at me saying,
"No, you can't do that!"
Believe me,
Sometimes they are worse than this society that reminds me of my boundaries.
Anyway, five days pass by
and then I say goodbye.
Seeing my grin,
It decides to remind me,
"My pal, don't you worry
Cause I will be back again."

a man you could miss for two days straight,
wouldn’t miss you for a year

Lounging, today, on Your back porch
I saw America's men
Holding their tiki torches
Toward all they had been

I saw all of America's men
Wade angrily out into the icy upper bay waters
Toward all they had been
Through the tears of their mothers and daughters

Wading out into the icy waters
Holding their tiki torches
Through the tears of their mothers and daughters
Lounging, half-drowned, on Lady Liberty's back porch

A blank page invites opportunity;
searches for a voice.
You fear her words,
so you sculpt her before she finds them.
She does not ease like clay, moulded
with warm, purposeful hands, but
bends; stiff and rigid.

You fold her into something pretty
or delicate or curious.
Only then can you gaze upon each deliberate
crease and see your work is done;
when a paper crane sits upon a dusty
shelf. Pleasant, polite,
quiet – yours.

I am an ocean:
unyielding, unending

Unknown. Still like broken
glass and just as threatening.

But no man calling himself
messiah can tame me

beneath his foot, nor
cleave me in two

for his convenience;
calling it providence.

May my shadows swallow
him whole.

Whenever an old white guy butts into the middle of my conversation
without fail he forces his opinion into my ears
down my eustachian tubes and into my stomach.
his opinion always comes up, like saltine crackers when you're sick
or too much ***** when you're dumb.
It burns my throat on the way up, but I never stop it
I don't have the will to swallow it down.
My face gets red even as the words come out of my mouth

That is to say

When an old white guy interrupts my conversation
asks me a rhetorical question in a demeaning tone
and acts like he's a greek philospher while I'm a lowly
"stupid teenage girl"

I find myself agreeing with him.
I never truly believe him,
but something in me becomes inexplicably embarrassed,
it's easier to spew his own ideas back at him than it is to hold my ground.

This is something I've been working on.

See, maybe he is like a philosopher.
His words can sound convincing
But pretty words don't equate to the truth.
He is aristotle.

Aristotle was wrong about biology
Chemistry
Psychology
Astronomy
and yes
Basic. Human. Rights.

I may just be a stupid teenage girl,
but aren't all the revolutionaries?

There exsists people
who live on the bread of
Inequality
Injustice
Hypocracy
Prejudice
Dear those people
I must say
you are really poor

A girl is borned
tangled in so many boundations
and these restrictions
are right from where
their lifecycle begins
to their deaths

Belive me these chains
which grab them
weigh them more than
anything
Some die
Some struggle
Some protest

These activities
are all variant
but why only girls
need to do all of that
why they have to beg for their
FREEDOM
why they are so desperate
for education

There is only one life
to live in this
beautiful world
let us not waste that
lets unleash those chains
lets break those cages
lets remove that handcuffs
and make this world more beautiful

I clung to you like a lifeline-
A floating buoy in a violent sea
But when I let go of you
Into the deep, deep
Blue,
I found that I had gills—
And I could breathe.

Endless abundance,
you are, a hidden treasure;
infused in magicks,
synchronized with Mother Moon,
divine feminine of life.