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Clay Face Jun 2020
I love it.
But grow trees to adumbrate it’s anima.

To force a mascaraed upon its glow.
Tarp my elation for it.
It’s guttural.
I feel my definition eave when I do it.

Alien cliques called societal norms.
Make such a scintillating activity, abnormal.
I hurt no one through such a cosmetic lust.
Fabric is not a great medium for harm.

I cringe at such struggles.
For gender roles and such.
One shouldn’t care of what other think.
God knows I’m a hypocrite to state that.

I want to share my “taboo” with someone dear.

I need to.

Anyone who struggles with personal enjoyment.
Doing things that are no harm to others, but are considered deviant.
I would love to leave you with a quote.

“I am human, nothing human is alien to me.”

Where whatever clothes you want to.
Love whoever you want to with their consent.
Cattatonicat Jun 2020
Feeling insecure?
That’s no reason to gossip about the others and be rude
Feeling two-faced?
That’s no reason to blame others and be rude
Have no self-respect?
That’s no reason to disrespect others and be rude
Have crippling self-doubt?
That’s no reason to doubt others and be rude

Rude to yourself?
That’s no reason to be rude to the others
newpoetica Jun 2020
three inches --
that's how far away you are from a corset that cinches.

so close, yet so far...
you aren't up to standards, you aren't up to par.

beauty is in the eye of the beholder --
hell, you'll be even more grotesque as you get older.

words cut deeply from those you care for...
i'm sorry that i can't be your perfect little *****.
sorry my poetry has been so negative lately.
Brave Wilson Jun 2020
She was the fool
Who danced so wildly
to tunes that were played
by the man of sociaties,
who pray on her love,
and borrowed insecurities,
but returning them soon.
leaving her lost and in pain,
And filled with regrets,
of the gift she had traded
for a single nights pleasure
with men who had wive's
and girls that were bored.
Till she was left all alone
with a burden on her soul,
Desires in her heart,
but damaged beyond that wich one could repair.
-bi sexuality makes twice the curse of a womans insecurities.
Brave Wilson Jun 2020
Born Insecure, ever chasing perfection.
Never quite skinny enough,
Never quite pretty enough,
her soul was the purest,
This fact would elude her.
Her form was her weakness,
This fact would consume her.
Until the day had come,
when a breathe she could not draw,
as the Portrait on her arms,
had Spilled all her ink.
- Its an ugly world we live in, where the parameters of beauty are controlled by the ugliest among us
TyeniWrites May 2020
A glance at her face is all it takes
Can ruin her entire day
Everyday she feels ugly
Slowly killing her inside
Dear God a clear skin,she begged
She just wants to feel pretty
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