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Descovia Oct 2021
Can we please normalize, women having character of an intellectual and professional decency?

Regardless of jokes used in any setting? If they do contain ***** or mature content.

It always felt like I was trying to reach an itch, impossible to reach

Picking at a wound, not meant to be explored.

Is nothing compared to leaving the unknown explored and questions unanswered. When we are suppose to learn from our mistakes.

A man makes a ****** joke and people laugh.

A woman does it. It deems her as everything else insulting under the sun.

We cannot forget that the moon is keeping balance.
My sisters are we right?

Why is it? Knowingly, we would not have existence without opposites.

Through intervention just prolong suffering?
Why is it we choose to belittle and underappreciate our strong women?

My sisters are we right for this?

It's a man world. HA. 46 Presidents even failed to even prove that. If this is the case, then how are women surviving in it? Perfectly! If you ask me, they are better so than men.

You forget a mother brought you this world? You forgot where you come from? Is it not or is the essence and energy source of Earth feminine energy in the first place?

It would make sense for it to be factual. Women are natural creators!

Perhaps, that is why the world blessed them with the ability to live longer with both sides of the brain working in order to do so.

Yet, we find it needed to pick on them for not having thick skin.

Be reasonable, having one less layer to tolerate our *******
is nothing compared to childbirth. Period. I am not going to stress that matter. For I did not ask for consent entirely with my boundaries to do so.
Women are we right?

When it comes to voicing concerns or requesting permission.
Something, That would not hurt any of you men to learn.
Stop allowing your pride to make your deathbed from unneeded stress.

She results to being apparently "toxic." Learn to accept no. Rejection will always follow where acceptance decides to depart from cruelty of human nature. Everything and everyone will not accept you as it comes. Naturally.
  Abuse is confused for love
and blinding by confusing PTSD
My sisters, are we right for this?

If I said this
in the body of a woman, instead of temporary one I am residing
would I be still be deemed as overly emotional or too sensitive?

I believe this is not the case on any standpoint.

Women rights have restored more peace through communication than wars.
Women rights have saved more lives than doctors.
Women's Rights are protecting more children than financially dependent parents desperately enough, whom use a child's life as a pawn. Chest of life, twisted game at that, where everyone has to play and have FUN but minimum strategies to accommodate keeping the Queen protected
from all vile forms of danger threatening to her presence?
The audacity to fail in many life times.
When will we learn?
We should not devalue our precious treasures.

I ask of you
My sisters are we right?
I decided to rewrite a poem for National Women's Day.
Dedicated to all the strong female role models close and distant!
I love you
Victoria Jul 2020
in that stillness moment i, questioning
why people stare through (and stare within, staring through)
that fuzz or mush like their covered window panes (staring within, staring through)
that shy window pane that turns

eeyoyvrbd   e r o e b y v y d   e  e  y  y  o  d  b  r  v

so that i (staring in, staring at) may roam in


turning my mind to that fuzz and static, becoming fogged window pane
to look out (and stare) like rain droplets caressing
so rough they fall to pound that pavement
pavement so coarse and electric like the peppered mountain range
where i stand
my shoes fill like leaking boats
to roam, to wander, in that desolate diorite range (staring within)
questioning (staring through) as time joining
as headache turns everybody to everything turns

eybd   oryoy        ebordyoev  ydeb       dbeyodebe           dyobyobye
ebdoybeod       ebdoeboy debot     vverbdyodv   verdbey    odbver  vebsrobe      ybddoeb
amber Jul 2018
Collecting dust,
I will sit here on this shelf,
Never to be taken down.
amber Jul 2018
thrashing my head,
against the edge of my desk,
the pain no longer helps.
it only reminds me,
that my great stupidity,
has no credibility.
amber Jul 2018
I see my eyes in the mirror,
But they do not seem,
To belong to me.
They are empty,
Of a different essence.

Attempting to find a glimpse,
Of familiarity.
Without success,
My anger boils.
Starting at the bottom of my stomach,
And pouring out my ears and mouth.

A loud bang is followed by clanging.
Glass falls around my feet,
Blood flows from my hand,
Hanging beside me.
The mirror is broken,
And displays me more accurately,
Than ever.
The Noose Mar 2018
Halation stretched
As the sun melted into bone
The sound of waves
Murmuring in the distance
Where like whispers
Falling on ears eager
For reassurance
Soothing, forgiving
Mending the very fabric of existence
Once shredded
Beyond repair

Mother nature had just
Birthed Spring
Along with the rudiments
Of designing a new
Aerinlia Nov 2017
My dream is to smile again
I want to gi e a smile to myself
I'm tired of gi ing a smile to others
I'm tired of ʰᶦᵈᶦⁿᵍ behind my f̶̓̅a̷͗̄k̸̀͐e̷͆͘ smile
Someone please gi e me smile
Please bring back my smile
ᵢ wₐₙₜ ₜₒ ₛₘᵢₗₑ ₛₒ bₐdly
I beg you.
no, my keyboard didn't broke. I purposely omitted "v" letter because it looks like a smile. Also "fake" part is glitched, its up to you to read it or not.
Gavin Barnard Nov 2017
I remember my school days
When I would sleep late
And wake up early,
Chug my first of four Monsters,
And be completely fine,
Set aside a small headache
Thats become a part of my routine.

I would do whatever I felt like
During my favorite time of day,
The nightime hours,
Be it games or anime or poetry,
And when I woke up it was
School or more games on the weekends.

When I turned eighteen
I flew to MCRD San Diego
As a Marine Corps Recruit,
****** a few Drill Instructors off,
Laughed at their insults,
And enjoyed a four day bus trip home.
That took me all of august.

Two months of nothing later,
******* money from my family,
Dreaming meloncholy dreams
That'll never amount to anything,
And I'm staying up until three A.M.
Playing World of Warcraft
Because I need that monk
To be level seventy yesterday.

Then I'm sleeping until ten AM
But rising at noon,
Ready with a peculiar
Yet familiar headache
To level a character I wish I was;
Because its impossible to find work
And because there's nothing I hate more
Than laziness, depression, and myself.
I found this poem to be pretty **** good, so, exactlyish one year later, I made revisions. I mean, none of my poems are final, part of why I post them is for suggestions, not that I expect any.

Heres the OG Poem:
helena alexis Oct 2017
it’s 9:30pm on a
chilly autumn night
i step into the
passengers seat
of your car as you
start the engine

music blaring from
the speakers as the
thundering bass
vibrates through
the entire car
i couldn’t get a word
out because it was so loud

we stop at a red light
I turn to look at you
as the red light
hits your face
i wanted to take a picture
it looked so aesthetically
pleasing with your side profile
as the red light shined in your face
making your face bright red like
the blush on my face when people
ask me about you

your grip on the steering
is so strong that i can see
your veins popping out
you look so focused
when you drive
it’s ****
with only one hand
on the wheel
the other i wish
was gripping my thigh

late night drives
with you are
my favorite

- night drives
made it a little longer and detailed :)
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