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“You look like my daughter”
The man says to me,
As he’s ordering me a drink
Looking my body up and down.

I laugh,
Look away,
Try to pretend he didn’t say that

Oh but don’t worry
He made it a point
to mention
T H R E E
              M O R E
                           T I M E S
how my body
Resembled his daughters,
“Tight, perfect, the right kind”

Oof.
Idk y’all
Idk that I can do this.
I walk away
I dont make that money.
Even though I know **** well,
I fit his ****** up fantasies.

Not to mention I’m triggered,
Thanks to my childhood trauma,
By all of this conversation,
But it doesn’t really matter
Anyways.
Just a product of my environment
Just an object to fill
The desires
Of hungry eyes.

**** it
Let me be
An empty *** doll.
Just take my intelligence with you please.
Flowers for Algernon ,
And I’m wilting.
I’m too aware of my place in society.

Why strive to peruse my education,
When I know no one will hire me
Because of my background?
Why stay sober,
When my ******* flashbacks
Only stop when I’m drunk?

I hate my life.
No I don’t like the job I have;
But this **** ain’t easy.

And none of it is my fault.
It isn’t.
None of my trauma is my fault.

At least At the end of the day
I have the comfort
Of knowing,
That I matter just as little as the next person.
My life,
In all of its glory,
matters just as little as john f Kennedy’s
I am nothing
And we are nothing

Our suffering is eternal
Carlo C Gomez Apr 21
Ziegfield girls with Gatling guns
in complete synchronization,
decked out in Erté.
Watch your step, soldier,
for what's often considered foreplay.

Much like Peter and the Wolf,
one thing leads to another
on this daisy chain,
and as you know,
Burke's only jealous of Lorainne.

I'll tell you what,
dress warm for the ******* snowstorm,
and there'll be a place alongside
such an ingenue.
But what a terrible let down
it would be to find out
she was always smarter than you.
Erté (pronounced AIR TAY): Romain de Tirtoff's pseudonym; he was a 20th-century artist and designer in an array of fields, including fashion, jewellery, costume and set design for film, theatre, and opera.
sydney Mar 19
Why is it that
I am held to a standard set in stone
That you are able to treat like a mold

Why is it that
I am punished for not acting “lady-like”
Yet you are excused because “boys will be boys”

Why is it that
When I was a girl, I wasn’t strong enough to lift a chair
Because you, were the “strong boy” my teacher required

Why is it that
I am trained in passivity
While you are praised for being actively inquisitive

Why is it that
As I speak out, I am obnoxiously bossy
But as you speak out, you are a heroic leader

Why is it that
When insulting me, I’m a *****
But when insulting you, you are just a son of that *****

Why is it that
I can’t speak my truth because that would be emasculating
But you are entitled to, because your truth actually has value

Why is it that
—for the same action—
I am spat out, left ruminating in a puddle of self-doubt
While you are uplifted and encouraged

And, why is it that
I've internalized all of these messages, absorbing the ramifications
While you are able to effectively maneuver them, benefiting off of my downfall

Why is it that, now
I reflexively utter “sorry,” coating my rhetoric to please you

Why is it that, now
I instantaneously tell you, “no, it's ok” when
it isn't. ok.

Why is it that, now
When an adult man catcalls me, a teenage girl
I am taught that is my obligation to indulge him, be kind
So I am not further harassed


And, tell me, why is it that
I am taught to compromise my needs
To fulfill yours
This poem is about the double standard and misogyny that is so rooted in our society resulting in, eventually, every person being a walking reflection of it.
Spicy Digits Feb 17
I made myself so.
So small
For so long
So talk over me,
I won't mind,
I made myself so.

So quieten me,
If it's what you need.
A speechless soul,
I silenced myself so.

Daddy didn't see you
So take your aim
Swing.
Argue and I will cower.
I taught myself so.

Spread corrosive untruth,
Use me and chew me out,
I oppressed myself so.

I see the end light,
And imminent reprieve.
So do what you like,
I'll make myself so.

Try to unpeel my skin,
Titanium dermis,
Beating bass drum,
Gold flecked arteries,
Narcissus shikari,
Lover of innocence,

I made myself so.
Ahmad Attr Feb 9
Little girl get in the rush
Pink blush and get on the bus
Stay shush and get your dreams crushed

Don’t stuff in, the things that don’t matter
There’s no way up so burn down the ladder

Put on the lipstick, take your pretty brush
Shut up, even if it is sad, even if it hurts
Stay hush, and that’s how you will live lush

Locked in the castle, now wait for your prince
Bow down to him, the moment he’s in

Little girl get in the rush
Pink blush and your crinoline skirt
Stay shush or else you will get crushed
This is a female counterpart to Xylophone Medley, tackling sexism, misogyny and toxic gender roles.
Hag
With velveteen curtains and a table of gold
sat an old hag with stories untold.
Kids scurried along the marble path
as they escaped her ferocious shihtzu dog.
Filthy men passed one-liners
about her polished growl.
She played hoarse music on her platinum harp
and sang along verses of outcasts’ tarp.
She read out loud stories
banned by the elders in the ancient market.
She lured and polluted little children’s minds
with her ideas and little schemes.
Yet the townsfolk let that damsel stay,
for she was an old hag who could do magic.
With their minds did the magic play.
The populace attempted to play with her tragic
mind in the hope that they could do magic too.
Beckie Davies Dec 2020
your eyes rake over my body
summing up my value
i don't recognise your currency
of pure, rancid misogyny

your eyes rake over my body
when you don't even know me
you think my physical features are worth more than an honest picture
you skim my cover but never bother to read the story

your eyes rake over my body
summing up my value
fifty points for the ******* and fifty points for the thighs
it's funny how you never bothered to value my mind

your eyes rake over my body
you begin to feed me your line
i make my beeline for the door
leaving your misogyny behind
i left those misogynistic eyes behind
Abstracted Nov 2020
They ask me
“What were you for halloween?”
I was in disguise
Trying to hide the pain
Misogyny all around me
I wished peace can rain
On the uneducated
And the weak minded
Wisdom, I wished they gain
A great burden is upon my heart
With my pink eyes and burning tears
I wished freedom is reign
You said it’s the ancestors fault
I said ‘I don’t like to blame’
But I begged my universe
To change the game
To make it equal
Peaceful
Faithful
And sane
Please let the change happen
As it should be
Please
Let it change
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