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Pieces of a woman
Gloom, glee, distance and intimacy
Attitude, gratitude, strength and vulnerability
Heartbreaks, Happiness, Longingness and poetry
Calmness, boldness and a bad *** stree.

Pieces of a woman
Stretch Marks, cellulite, miscarriages and then bossy
Shallow, Intense, blur and then some glossy
Cute, cheerful, lazy, sane and naughty
Benevolent, bizarre, shy and much hotty

Pieces of a woman
Family, friends, kin, acquaintances
Risk, safe and then out of the world chances
Society, sub-urb,rural and them glances
Some music, some writing, some shying and couple dances

Pieces of a woman
Marriage, adoption, career and grace
Clarity,focus,concentration and haze
Red,green, black, purple and beige
Independence, freedom, self-doubt and cage

All this and endless…..
And then some and then some
Nothing can totally define
The ultimate human
The beautiful, the wonderful
Pieces of a woman.
Just gave a thought to pieces of a woman on Women's day
Allesha Eman Oct 2021
Your emotions, cataclysmic sentiments,
build foundations from crumpled pieces of paper
creating ideas born out of despair
and you sit amongst yourself
feeling like a candle flame
with piles of unsaid things
as your fuel, waiting to ignite,  
a wicked smile held in place
right where it belongs
at the centre of a concept map
unsteady, unpredictable
the blueprint of catastrophe
laughter without reason
s y kalindara Jun 2021
How do I go about shedding the shells
that earned me a pat on the head and a "good girl"?

I was the parent's dream,
a blue-ribbon giftee
of civility,
the picture of obedience,
​and oh so mature!
The 'quiet child' cachet was my only allure.

This caged bird didn't sing
of sentiments and other sinful things,
but spent decades nesting feelings.

When all alternatives felt illicit,
I reserved my torments for exclusive exhibitions,
where I held the only ticket.
Those showcased, glass displays are my poems now,
I've stuffed them with secrets I can't talk about,
but can write down.

Do the people who raised me deserve an applause?
I've got songs dancing in my head and they're the cause
of my closet of flaws.
Would I even have it in me if I was a happy child,
bold and wild?
They say art is for those who've lived in the rain;
Well, I've had my cup of it
and I guess, this is my exchange.

Copyright © 2021 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
I think part 1 and 2 say it all, I've got nothing left to explain.
jia Apr 2021
how do i undo
the feelings i have for you
when clearly you got no clue
that these are all true

how do i undo
to cut myself from blue
though this ain't new
i wanna get over you
Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, expressing old emotions and letting them go later when you are better----makes you feel so powerful and proud of the place you are now in:]

She changed for a shady robe coating her scars

She passed across mirrors abandoning her fury

She levitated on an ocean of despise

and let the sorrow sink her in the deep

She cringed from the pity and hid under her veil

She heard the loudness of silence and companied the loneliness

jia Mar 2021
maybe if you didn't give any hint
like that time you liked my new tint
and when you gave me my favorite mint
i just wish you didn't

maybe if you treated others the same
like how it's only me that can tame
your only light and burning flame
so that's how it became

maybe if you were careful
and kind of less of a fool
a little more truthful
just thinking, it's wishful

maybe if i wasn't naive
for like a child, i believed
that you would not leave
however, i was deceived
Let me unbotton
The scarf of the feelings
Behind your chest
The layers of mirage
That filled you with mist
The fetters around your *****
And let me try
To break your shield
On the rips of truth
On the lips of the lightening words
In the middle of the night
I want to creep so deep
And reach your glass of thought
That keeps you afar
At the doors of the facts
To watch your limbs
Striding the moon
And beam with pleasure
In the eyes of the young
So tightly clung
To the sides of the river
That springs in your heart
With dispatch
That is born in brains afresh
To start from scratch
Poem by/ Hassan Mohammed Alemrany
Sara Brummer Oct 2020
There are always waiting spectors
as morning’s penumbra ripples
where chants of the mind play
to an audience of one.

They shape the mist as dawn
expands and connects each breath.
The weight of darkness lifts to
the edges of ether, emptying
the private hole of self.

Slowly, the hours
open to the hovering light,
the soft burn of the sun.
Like an instant between
seasons, the clot of darkness

There on the edges of wakefulness,
unexpected color breaks open silence,
dispersing the night’s assembly of ghosts.
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