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Poti Mercado Jan 2016
Across from me at the bar table,
the bartender smiles and asks for my order
I tell him, "anything strong," and hand him ten dollars
I drink it up, feel its strength running down my throat
into my ever-growing stomach
I look up and remember what I've left at home
My wife sat in the bedroom alone,
My children pacing around and adapting the way women and men are supposed to be

I have taught my son power, strength, and dominance
While I have taught my daughter weakness and submission
Maybe that's where I went wrong as a father
Where all previous generations of my family have gone wrong
Raising me as a man seeing women as objects,
And I raising my son in the same manner
I take one last sip from my ten dollar drink
Taking it in along with my realizations

In front of me is the door of my home
where I have left women to shrink
in order to enlarge myself to the point of overfeeding my ego
And then I decided to shrink myself into the size
of the women I've shrunk

The size of my home has grown larger
Its proportions have expanded
Allowing each of us to occupy the same amount of space
And so I sat across my wife at the kitchen table
Looking at her at eye level
She smiles and I smile back
This was written during one of our English classes yay if you haven't read/seen Lily Myers' "Shrinking Women" you can look it up on YouTube!

This poem was written in the father's perspective.
Baylee Sep 2015
Much like being trapped in an elevator,
Awaiting your rescue,
Wondering if you should be the one to save yourself,
But you start panicking once the doors wont open,
You feel yourself shrinking,
Drowning in your thoughts,
Internally collapsing from the stress,
You begin to hyperventilate,
But not audibly, no, it's completely silent,
The utter silence itself is deafening,
You question the stability and structure
Of the suspended room that your life is being held in,
Back to the silence, was that a creaking sound
Or are you just starting to become paranoid now,
Is someone on the outside trying to pry the doors open
To help rescue you, and get you out,
Or is someone simply mindlessly hitting the elevator button
Waiting for it to come, though it never will,
Surely they'll become annoyed and just take the stairs,
But how are you supposed to get out of this situation,
This state of complete panic, you start to sob,
And that's when you realize that this is what anxiety feels like.
After a recent experience of getting trapped in an elevator, those minutes you're waiting to be saved seem like the longest moments of your life, specially for someone who already has an underlying fear of elevators. Not to mention the fact that you're someone who has serious anxiety problems, so this situation only makes you reflect outward and even further inward on yourself.
ray Jun 2014
I saw sparks
When you entered my life that hot August day
They flamed up with the fireworks
That shot from my heart with its every beat

You saw thick thighs
And in some cases that’s not bad
Every woman needs curves, right?
I had too many

My personality shrunk with my body
I was no longer alive
Just a shrinking mass
Heavy weight trying to float on water

I saw a fire
When I looked at myself in the mirror
My body the smoke
But there was no flame, unless you stuck your arm in

You saw my shrinking flame
And blew on it
Because oxygen fuels fire
But we exhale carbon dioxide
Now there is nothing left to shrink
Maybe it’s for the better

— The End —