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s y kalindara Aug 25
What I should have said instead
of lacing up my wine-stained lips
was that I am a hostess to thundering feelings
that palpitate to
the simplest touch,
and I can't tone them down
to a tiptoeing hush.

What I should have said instead
of swallowing the Sea Witch's potion
was that I could liken my senses
to the salts of the ocean,
concentrated to the very drop,
like drizzles of devotion,
unmeant for a life of dilution.

My steamy shower box sees everything;
these bulky feelings and the hold they have on me,
how they're painted on my paper skin,
in shadows, shades of red, and petechiae.
It's funny, they don't mention how hiding feels like seeking agony.

I'm a shell of a doll, with ripped out seams and missing stuffing,
and I can't stomach these hostaged words, in all their densities.
I just want them exposed like an actress's teeth,
unboxed without the threat of fragility.

What I should have said,
when I was twenty one and naïve,
posed like a sinner on my knees,
was that underneath my skin, I am simmering,
and that I could love you,
until I was red in the face,
but I wish I didn't have to.

Copyright © 2022 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
This monstrosity is what happens to a poem when you can't stop editing it ****. It's like I went "how many metaphors could I use before they become redundant?" Anyway I've been working on this for a while now, I keep writing a little then forgetting about it, which is why it's so messy imo. I just basically wanted to say that I wish I could've loved them loudly, without having to minimise how I truly felt, just so I don't scare them away. They still left me anyway, so what was point of all this torturous restraint? It didn't benefit me at all, except made me realise that I don't want this to happen again. I don't care if my feelings scare people away. I'm never going to stop being a sensitive, vulnerable, honest, and (let's be real) dramatic person - and I'm not ashamed of my nature anymore! One day someone is going to appreciate and reciprocate these raw sentiments, and that'll be the person for me.
I struggle to convey the pulsing fear
that this life of mine may end
before I get the chance to flee to my destiny
Not much of a poem I suppose, just how I’ve been feeling as of lately
s y kalindara May 2021
I sound the way I feel
silent, silenced.
I speak in soft sentences that end
in demure whispers
and masking mumbles,
with a voice that's paralleled to averting eyes, glancing at passing feet.

I bear a larynx that insufflates insecurities
and a mouth that hosts friction;
sealed lips, grinding teeth and a bitten tongue.
They're my signatures and I own each one.

Copyright © 2021 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
This is a two-parter. I'll be publishing the next bit soon. It went a bit off topic so I felt like it was better suited as a separate yet related poem.
Andrea Dec 2020
Hush little baby you're only a child
You don't know how the world works
Sit down, let the adults talk, it'll only take a while

Hush little baby, don't talk like that
The spite from your mouth
Become forgotten artifacts

Hush little baby you're only 22,
You can vote, drink, work
But you can't talk to us too

Hush little baby you're
Our child, we love you enough
To **** you inside
The fragile spine breaks
As you read the words
Silenced by my pen
annh Oct 2020
My tongue is tethered to the words which have failed me.
‘There's really no such thing as the 'voiceless'. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.’
- Arundhati Roy
SA Szumloz Jul 2020
Cloth shoved down your throat
How long can you be silenced?
It's the last hour.
Man, I am cranking out poems by the hour... I love it!
StakesV Jun 2020
i spend the afternoon, gently
weaving a conversation
about myself into
the hands of my mother
who shoos me away, leaving,
going, turning away after
i ask her,
"how would you react
if i were gay?"
and i am gay

and well, there could have been
worse outcomes, an aftermath
that could have broken me
but the silence
was deafening
and i could not cover my ears
but my mouth was zipped
shut, no words; and my mom
threw away the key

we let the night
pass by like a ghost
and the next day, the sun
was rebirthed; my mom
slips me the key
to my mouth
and i unzip it
but it continues
to be silent
with my voice kept unheard
Puck Jun 2020
There was a silence fogging us
But now we see clear
We speak
We say their names
We change
Educate yourself and others.
Grey Jun 2020
Donate. Vote. Raise awareness. Sign petitions. Protest. Educate yourself and others. Email authorities and those who can make concrete change. Use your voice. Advocate for equal rights. Share ways others can help. Let’s end this madness Now.
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