You call it uniqueness
I call it flaw
My marred appearance
Isn't good at all

There was a shortcoming
So blemished I appear
Defective my nature
So close and so dear...

Stay Away!
Torn clothes and swollen eyes,
Messy hair and silent cries.
She kept on shrieking all that while,
But no one saved her from that heinous crime.

Yes, you got that right- she was *****!
Oops! I'm sorry but she told me she couldn't disclose their names.
Each one of those cruel monsters,
Kept on scratching and licking her body like that of a lobster's.

Wondering who that girl was, right?
What would come over you if I tell you it was me- sympathy, hatred or fright?
But alas! I can't name just one girl out of this lot,
But even if I'm ready to fight, would the society accept or let me live with peace, the answer is simple- No, they'll NOT!

Even if I keep their identities no more un-named,
People might beat them up or send them to jail,
But after a while my clothes would be judged,
They’d all forget my pain and I’d just get blamed.

“Every girl, everywhere needs to watch out!”
That’s what they say whenever we step out.
But just ask yourself, have you ever instructed your sons to stop staring or play those stupid eve-teasing games?
Because there’s where it all starts from the idea of planning rapes…

You, being a man might never know this,
But I know, the amount of pain a woman suffers, which you fail to notice.
Every girl gets *****, in some way or another,
What’s wrong in staring right? It’s just another form of a friendly gesture.

But, gestures don’t seem friendly,
When your eyes pierce mine.
But you never look away instead, you wink proudly,
With a wicked smile.

I agree you never touched me,
But that look in your eyes scares me to death mentally.
I know you never ****** me up,
But just that action you did by pulling your zipper up,
Was enough for me to choke myself up.

I know you’ve an excuse ready to defend yourself,
Advise me to dress properly, and cover myself?
If that’s the problem as you all say,
Then why did it happen to the girl in a cloak the other day?

And if you still feel like you were just having fun like any usual day,
Then how’d you feel if, someone looks at your sister in that way?

I might not know what *** feels like,
But I surely know the intensity of the pain you wanted to induce in me at that point of time.

I wouldn’t say stop your feelings and never confess or come forward to say,
But, if she says “No” in any way,
The best way for you would just be to- Stay Away!

I stayed in bed today
Because I was scared
of how other people
would see me.

I fear how the
world sees me.

I want to be seen
For who I am
And who I want to be,
Not who I am told to be.

That is no life
Worth living.

Our parents are
There to guide us
Not dictate us
And neglect our needs.

So why do they act like
we're dangerous to ourselves?

We may not always know
Exactly who we are, but
They don't always know either.
What does age have to do with it?

Refuse to be
Someone you're not.

Stand up to false reality!
Stand up for your beliefs!
Be who you are and step into the
shoes you were meant to fill!

I say ******* to society

I've given up sobriety

Iron man with Iron feet

I will run with no defeat


You don't know the half of it


**** the negativity

I am positivity

This is my nativity


You can't even tell it's me

The future & the past will meet

Everything is obsolete

I travel in infinity


That's why I hit the alt delete

You can check my Windows

No one is controlling me


I do what I *******, please

Apple Fruit and Mac & Cheese

That's how it's supposed to be


As easy as a notice to evict

You're supposed to leave


As easy as a punch to the stomach

Don't expect breath


As easy as can be

Don't expect to be a friend to me


My inner intense sneeze

Rhyme schemes & remedies



I cascade into cadence

of sounds created from synergy


I make friends not enemies

those who refuse will

never hear the end of me


I connect thoughts

Like physical human centipedes


I dissect words like

frog legs & vasectomy


Perpendicular is my literature

Therefore you can't get to me


No gravity

my styles wild

It's outlandish


My sanity is inbound

Like planes landing


You're plain jane

I'm James cameron


I make waves

Then face cameras


I make change

and then hand it


I'd still **** if I was one handed


I'm still ill, I got skills


I'm a digital bandit, lyrically rampant  


spiritually sanctioned


my riddles are of mental chemicals unbalanced

because of Ritalin i spit ballads


how will this shooting effect our generation, public perception

government deception

and of course the voting ballet


tables have turned all is madness

what will the democrats and republicans say about fifty something bodies laying down a decade

It will all sound the same

public & social media hate

what stand will you take?

its crazy how all we do is debate


I stand for humanity, human lives unified not by destruction nor vanity

but the construction of

beliefs higher than religious crosses, Tall Buildings & Canopies


It's classism

Just subtract the can of beans

A ripple of mass ignorance is a brand you see


It's hate

no marketers

Hate is self-marked

We hate the unknown & don't accept

People's accomplishments


It's comfort

Drink your coffee slow

Do you know where a target is?


The same amount of a coffee

equals a meal for starving kids


It's marvelous how important

The stain on that carpet is


When most people don't have a place

Nor know what comfort is


This substance

is brought to you by A sober mind

one that is under the influence

Of motivation injected into the brain

Via increments


My sentences
are a result of elements

Past present & prevalent

I've learned the benefits

of being an optimus

Optimism is key I'm just looking up


I universally believe

that we are capable of being one


just smile when you see Sun

This journey has just begun

- stellarhero

Who was the first person to decide
what's right and what's wrong?
Not the picky choosy **** we think
Came straight from the Bible.
The book that's been translated across
many languages, cultures, and general
beliefs?
I mean the first person.
The first group of people that decided
having a full life is wrong.
Being yourself is wrong.
Wanting is wrong.
Yearning, dreaming, achieving...
All wrong.
Who decided being a woman
was so wrong that we should be condemned?
I should be able to **** who I want
and not be defined by my "number".
I shouldn't have to be asked that question.
I should be getting high-fived for having
Consensual *** with the guy who
makes my coffee.
I should be applauded for having ***
with multiple men.
I should be shown the same level of
respect as any man out there.
But my number is vital, isn't it?
Well, I say **** all of that.
**** a whole bunch of it.
**** anyone you want.
******* do anything you want to do.
Don't hurt anyone, and it shouldn't
be anyone's ******* business but yours.
Jesus ******* Christ.
**** him, too.
**** any imaginary thing you want.
That's what ******* is for.
**** yourself, for God's sake!
He wanted his people to be happy, right?
Free yourself from the chains of
modern society!
Find people just like you, and don't let them go.
They will be strong for you,
hold their heads high for you.
Defend you against nay-sayers and party poopers.
Stand behind you when confronted with
mass objection.
We are the lovers, and the fighters,
and we are many.
Band together and **** society.
You know,
For God's sake.

lmt

How would it be
In a world without hate
We will never know
**** Society

Moved from my home state.
Got a job doing **** I hate.
Got five kids between you and I.
They are ill tempered sometimes and we are on the fly
coming up with ways to handle the stressers
of food and shelter.
Why...
can't we leave today... Enter the fray... the edge of culture...
and make our own future?
I am caught in the thought
of my hands in the dirt and the sweat in your shirt
and no relief from the work of growing our own food.
Would it be rude to say that I've had enough of the days
of "super" markets and moving targets
and job interviews that bring hope and then bad news
when you find that it will never be enough to sustain even you, alone?
And really, what do we own, but ourselves?
Can it not be shared instead of set on shelves and hidden away in accounts that have safety nets and passwords and relationships that leave regrets and bridge-burns?
Could we be all-for-all?
Is it possible?

He asked me how I liked it today--
from the back or front?
He wanted to know why--
too small or didn't last?
He said he knew, so I shouldn't lie to him--
as if I was less than him.
What's a ****** to do
when the rumors peg her as a ****?
She can't ignore the whispers,
or the blatant accusations:
Now we all know how ***** she really is.
It's been twenty-four hours,
and already the **** is coming
with dogs, chained, in their heels,
makeup streaked and lipstick smudged.
He releases the *******.
But they don't wait for the cover of night to bite,
no, they lunge at noon in the crowded hallways
teeth of words, power of the sideways glance,
venom of whispers, bullets of pointed fingers
He needs a new name for the list,
his quota is short--
because when a girl becomes single,
she is an updated item on the auction:

Name: Lilith
experience: 1 guy(s)
skills:
     hands: 4/10
     tongue: 6/10
     on top: 3/10
     bottom: 7/10
volume: loud

Her reputation is spoiled--
the way her friends talk to her,
the invites she gets to hang out,
the fact that no one wants to talk to a ****.
Welcome, little ******,
to the Virtue Laments.

This is for the girls who lie awake at night,
Pulling at the blankets to keep them warm,
Drenched in sins of deprecation.
Tossing and turning on their twin size beds,
because there is not enough room to fit expectations,
let alone their own.
This is for the girls who stare at themselves in front of their mirrors,
Pinching at the extra layers of skin that hang around their tummies.
Rolls of "fat" as they call it, I prefer the term "beauty."
This is for the girls who have shoulders are backs plastered in scars.
From the bras that were one cup size to small, overly adjusted and tightened straps.
This is for the girls who fall prey to the fallacies of magazine stands,
captivated by the cold letters bleeding off the covers:
"Three hundred, sixty-five ways to style your hair!"
"How to get the perfect ****!"
"Turn off the lights to look good naked!"
"How to make him love you!"
Pull apart the flesh, look beneath your skin,
you are not defined by the number of eyes that manifest lust towards you,
you are not the hands that plead to saunter their way toward your hips,
You are not the number of inches that space out your thighs.
Or the visibility of muscle that line up on your stomach.
You do not need to look good naked,
don't turn off the lights.
Your **** looks fine
Stop falling victim to the media
To the photo shopped ads of puppets who look nothing like you
Because your real
and if you want a man to love you, he must learn to accept you
with your extra flaws, our scars, and rolls of fat.
Because that sack of bones known as a model on a Cosmopolitan cover will not keep him warm.
It is inscribed in the atoms that make you a person
you are a three dimensional beautiful masterpiece
you are not a computerized pixelated image
reshaped and resized retouched and revised
stop letting society dehumanize a woman
your a woman
all the fury to slither through you limbs until you shake with and anger and purpose, acknowledge the value of your worth for you are more that just a waste of paper and space, you are space, you are human, your alive, and beautiful