The whites of my teeth are flecked with moss.
I've always smiled with my lips pressed tight so no one
Could see the salt-spackled rocks
Tumbling round in my throat.
I think you once suspected I had
The ocean inside me;
Though now I've told you,
So of course you know.

Sometimes the dolphins scream so loud that you look at me a little
Lopsided; never mind that
My ocean has no dolphins, or whales
Or fish or growing things.
Just the rocks, with their creeping lichens,
Just the weeds, choking the bay,
Just the salt, choking me-
And him, choking both of us.

Sometimes I wade in the ocean at night,
Beside you, without leaving the bed.
I let my feet sink deep in the sand
And my body carve rigid to the wind.
You breathe against me, hot, asleep,
Unknowing as I grit myself before the slapping of the waves.
I cannot help it;
I am beckoned by catastrophe.

When I jolt awake with the sea on my lips and scales in my hair,
You don't ask any questions-
You smile and kiss me and say,
In the voice I've come to name SORROW, and LOVE,
"It'll be alright. You're okay,"
And I fall back asleep in silence.

Some might say the ocean is silent.
The thickness of the night is a blessing.
But I say it's hot, and heavy,
And anyone born near the coast can attest
That the ocean doesn't whisper,
It roars.
You touched me and I stained your fingertips blue; bless you,
You didn't ask. I've always thought
The tint makes you look more alive,
When you lean over me in the wee hours
With your hair all askew and
Your skin laid bare to the waist.
No matter how hard I grab and grip
Your back refuses to scar.
But just lean over sideways and you'll see
the puzzle pattern on mine.

Your lips taste like forgiveness. Your name is hard in my throat,
Your softness on my tongue.
Your neck in my teeth.
I am a long time healing and
Your patience knows no bounds.
Forgive me, love, for the blueberry smile
You wake up and wipe off each morning--
I cannot help but to leak.
Never be too much of a woman,
You may lose your man.
Do not be smarter,
For a starter.
Neither be too strong,
Nor too empowering.
Do not make your man
Be less of a man,
Make him feel,
You need him still.
Motivate his endeavours,
Make him feel secure being yours,
Never look at his flaws,
But inspire him so he grows.
Learn to cook well for a start,
Food is a way to a man's heart.
Shower him with spicy romantic gestures,
Be extra nice,giving him more pleasures.
Don't act over wise,
Give him his space.
Compliment him now and then,
Respect him in front of other men.
Be soft and docile,
Not uncouth and vile.
Your man will be by your side,
Forever the marriage vows he will abide.
A little respect


You and I, we have got a good thing going;
Don’t you think it’s time for you to be showing,
Me a little respect and changing your ways?
I have had enough of being the fool who you degrade.


Why do you stay with me and then do that?
Why do you feel the need to treat me so bad?
Just go, leave me alone, stop hurting me, get gone!
I’ve taken enough of your lies to write a thousand bitter love songs.


You don’t respect me enough to hate me,
So why do you have to treat me so shady?
Why do you have to do the things you do?
When all I ever tried to do was love you.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Smoke-filled room--
Full of people that I used to respect--
Using me against my will.
N E Waters Apr 2016
Dreamt about you again.
I'd tell you all about it, but
I know you won't receive it.

I wonder maybe if you knew--
if I called upon you
every morning after fitful sleep,
haunted
by your face.  Maybe
then if you knew, maybe
then you would not be so cruel.

If only I knew what inspired you
to have done what you continue to do
is it me?
must be.  
But what did I do, did I
hurt
you?
Or have you just decided I'm
worthless and not worth your time.

I try, I do.
to respect you, your
space and wish for me gone
but how can I drop
you when you won't leave me--


You, who chase me in my dreams.
Gah. I waffle back and forth as to whether to make this one public or not . . . but here it is. And since I've just made it public it's showing as a new poem, and I find it necessary just to say that this this poem is at least half a year old and probably longer . . . thanks for reading, either way.
Even when you
express your thoughts
in a respectful way,
you'll find more
often than not,
you'll be told
assuredly,
you're wrong.

This is a tactic of those
hidden behind
status and clout.
They'll silence
your little voice
as they keep
right in your face
and shout.

You're entitled to yours
as they're entitled to theirs.
I want you to know, though,
those who refuse to let you speak,
have already decided inside
that you don't deserve autonomy.

Don't argue with the ill intended,
kids.

It's not your job to teach.
She Writes Jun 7
She didn’t want to be saved
She wanted to feel safe
While she saved herself

She wasn’t waiting
for a knight in shining armor
She fought her own demons

She didn’t expect to be treated
Like a princess
She wanted to be respected like a queen
we need in life:
love from a few
respect from all
meg Jun 6
Do not respect be because I am a woman,
but because you are a man.

Because you understand that you are human.
That I am human.
That we are simple living breathing creatures.

That we all have cells.
That we all have tissue.
That we are all almost dead, 
and the most you could do is spare me.

You could stop pretending
to be this man.
You do not protect
this household.
Or me,
my life,
this heart.

There is nothing expected
of anyone in this lifetime
unless they want it.
The expectation.

Expectations
Do they comfort you?
Do they make you feel better?
Do they depict how you want your life to be?
Or do you think for once
you’re worth more than that.
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