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Lieke Jan 28
You happened to me.
Why me?
Why you?
You hit me like a gunshot.
And hurt me soft and careful.
You inhaled me like a cigarette.
And locked me with your lips
You embraced me with your eyes.
And held onto my collar.
You wrecked away my ambition
Without pulling a single hair.
January 2018
Jillian McLean Feb 2018
I don't want my name on a long list of options,
I want who I am to be a choice in anothers eyes.
My body, is not an option to use, play with or pull the strings and control like a puppet.
My mind isn't a game to reach your highscore or play until you get bored.
I am not an option,
Nor are you.
I am a choice,
A decision.
Amanda Powell Jan 2018
Red flags in the beginning are easy to turn into little sticky notes, notes for later that sometimes lose their adhesive and fall to the ground much like my current tolerance for ****** dudes

The first known use for red flags was by the military to indicate they’re ready for battle, unfortunately I’ve seen enough red flags to start the next world war

I should’ve known
When I came back from Arizona and he said “you must’ve cheated on me because your ****** feels different”
Not because he’s insecure
or
because he doesn’t know trust
or
because he’s trying to assert control

I should’ve known
When he asked if I “had a problem getting wet because it seemed like that was a thing”
Not because he doesn’t know foreplay
(side note: **** doesn’t teach you foreplay)
or
because he doesn’t actually turn me on
or
because fun fact!- women can be turned on and not be wet

I should’ve known
When he said “if you shaved, then I’d go down on you 24/7”
Not because he was scared that choking on my ***** hair reminded him he’s with a real woman that grows hair
and humans inside her
and ideas
and opinions
and strength
and my body is not yours to give me ultimatums of

I should’ve known
When I asked if figuring out my pleasure was a burden and he answered “actually, yes it is”
Not because he’s too lazy to actually want to pleasure anyone but himself
or
because his only ****** education ended with a .com
or
because no one has ever expected more of him

I should’ve known when he said
“What I want out of a ****** partner is someone that wants me inside of them as soon as possible”
Not “inside my soul”
or
“inside my thoughts”
or
“inside my memories”
or
“inside an intimacy he will never know”

I should’ve known when he said
“Let me show you how Rachel did it”
Not “this is how I like it”
or
“can we try this?”
or
“opening your ******* mind to how another human being moves around you”

I should’ve known when
He spit on my ******, the universal sign for disrespect  
Like I deserve the same fate as tobacco swollen cheeks
Like my ****** is your spittoon,
am I the end of a tobacco session or a fancy wine tasting?
these things matter

Now I find it symbolic men are taught to spit while women are taught to swallow

Swallow our reactions
Swallow our feelings
Swallow our voices
Swallow his releases
Swallow his spit
Swallow us whole

When you see a red flag do not ignore that it means battle
This battle is not a healthy one, this battle will leave you bruised
Uproot this flag and take it with you to remind yourself
You can lose every battle and still win the war


11/28/2016 Amanda Powell
Amanda Powell Jan 2018
I’m sick of fuckboys saying they’re messed up themselves so they always mess up themselves while messing with myself.

Hold your hands out while I lay down the most vulnerable parts of me.  The parts I keep like presents labeled “do not open until this date”.

Like an excited child you rip open the wrapping paper like finger nails across my skin and I get a taste of the pain you’re about to give to me.

Next, you tear open the box.  This box! that contains the most vulnerable parts of me.  I feel my heart ripping open.  The cracking of the cardboard mimics the cracking of my ribs over my pounding heart.  

You look down into my vulnerable parts as I hold my breath.  
“Wow...thanks….you shouldn’t have”

You speak the truth about one thing.  I shouldn’t have.

You look around and say “I forgot to get you anything”

I think “it’s the thought that counts” but the problem is counting your thoughts only takes one hand.

One hand that I use to take my box back until I can lay it down in front of someone that looks down, smiles and says
“I got you the same thing”

8/18/2016 Amanda Powell
Carolyn Cagnon Dec 2017
You can't repair her heart for it is too far broken,
You can't take back words that were never spoken,
You wish like hell you could change the past,
But your ****** up relationship just wouldn't last,
And now you search for yourself in the bottom of a whiskey bottle,
And you busy your mind to keep from slamming into a wall at full throttle.

Welcome to your existence after breaking such a beautiful spirit,
For making her hate love you are hereby sentenced to fear it.
So tell me dearie was it all worth it?
The mind games, sly words, and *******.
Did you have enough fun while breaking such a kind heart?
Did you laugh as she peeled back her skin; painted with the blood within and called it art,
While she handed you her heart time and time again,
Only to watch you trample it yet keep it on a ******* chain...
So that she may never wander too far,
Did you enjoy ******* that girl's brain?



Was it really ******* worth it in the end?
I hope it was because now you can never make amends.
Enjoy your life long sentence of fearing love...
Since she's now forced to simply hate the idea of it.
svdgrl Dec 2017
Labotomize these thumbs,
they scroll more than they strum.
I don't mean to be dumb,
but I can't respond back so I hum,
and you won't hear me.
No, you can't see the words that I write.
I'm sure you'd only
be tickled,
If you knew that I think of you all night.
Because I can't sleep, love.
And I can only touch me right,
Yeah, that's right.
Just me, love.
Hope I can keep up with this fight.
And I know you don't really care,
and you haven't got some spare
feelings left to share
and if there are, they're barely there.
So drop the pity,
I'm mad you got to hear me whine.
How unsexy.
I'm supposed to just be doing fine.
I'll compartmentalize,
put it in a box and tie it with twine.
while you're liking every post of mine.
I'll compartmentalize.
While I reread your every line.
Kriti Gupta Oct 2017
Words are what own me
You string together those letters in a way that controls me

Waiting for phrases laced with clause
Falling victim to a precondition that I never saw

You speak in tangled tongue
Twisted vines of a past coming undone
Linguistically speaking
The damage is done
Joy Jun 2017
She was the definition of my name
She was the flowers that bloomed from the wounds that she healed
She was and always will be the ink that flowed from my pen when i wrote about her laughter that made me feel warm inside.
She saw right through me
She saw the mistakes i made
the mistakes that i used to tuck into bed with me
and she bought me a brand new bed
a brand new start
I could then say that i knew exactly what love looked like
love called me at midnight to make sure she was the first person to tell me happy birthday
love knew my favorite flavor ice cream
love knew what to say when i was crying
love knew how to make me smile again
love was there for all the fuckboys and drama
love knew me for me
love,loved me and i loved her.
I wrote this for my best friend...my soulmate <3
Becca Lansman May 2017
Give it back.
I did not build myself from paper mache only to wooed by a man undeserving of everything that makes me powerful.
I know I should not cry.
God—I know I should not ******* cry.
You are undeserving of the ocean that swells inside me— I will not spill for you.
I will not let you lick up the salt.
You have taken enough. Built this storm inside my chest only for it wrap itself around my lungs.
To the **** boy that stole my heart and threw it in the garbage as if it was leftovers: I am still searching through plastic bottles and used tissues.  
Trying to dust myself off
but i am still  the **** of your sick joke. The ***** newspaper. Yesterdays comic.
“Just another *** that wants your ****.” They scoff. As if I am nothing more than a carcass.

Burn me to ashes. Dust to dust.

Hollow me out. Chop off my *******. **** everything beautiful out of me until I am a shell of a woman. Sticking pins and needles in myself to keep from falling apart.
Wipe your feet on me. Twirl my hair in your fingers. Grab my ***. Anything. This is your world. Choke the feminist right out of me.

I’ll scream your name.

To the **** boy that stole my heart: I hope you fall in love with a powerful woman.  A woman who demands the respect I never could.
Skyye Yoder May 2017
Please don't try to impress me, because I know inside all you think about
is how you want to undress me.
Boy oh boy
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