Building in the workshop, slowly fixing a little girl
who looked up to this extraordinary man who loved her so much
Even without the same bloodline in their veins, she chose him out of seven.
He didn’t seem as though he was disappointed or ashamed of her.
He just loved to see her happy, while building toys and rabbit traps.
Loved seeing her smile as he taught her how to use the saw
and cut through her family’s civil war
And hammer the nails, called bad feelings down into her mood board,
Knock, Knock, Knock, Slam

Sitting on the porch with a not as little girl at his side,
Watching the birds, and the deer, and the grass.
He sees the inner bickering, in the girls head.
She had figured out that she was broken,
She just wanted to be fixed.
He wanted her to know
That walking on old broken glass from the once clear window
Will only cut you more and make you bleed harder.
So he handed her the mood board
And started to read aloud charlotte's web,
As the little taps began.
Knock, Knock, Knock, Slam.

Laying, cold as a corpse in his hospital bed,
She never saw it but it’s was she went through her head
As her mother, one morning, deadpanned that Bob was dead.
My favorite grandparent had died
For months on end, the moderately grownup girl couldn’t get it outta her head,
That she refused to look at him the last time that she could
Because she was afraid that he was empty, that he was different,
That the purely good man was slipping out.
She hadn’t been with him when he finally needed her help.
So she cried when no one was looking and missed so bad.
Broke down in the places she felt the least broken.
She went to her first funeral as the only child there.
Her mood board has one spot left,
She’d been saving for the day that lung cancer won
So she pounded out one more
Knock, Knock, Knock, SLAM.

When I slam,
I am more human
Than humanity before me.

When I slam,
I am the queen
Bathed in poet glory.

When I slam,
I am mine alone.
No other beings touch me.

When I slam,
I am a warrior.
Syllables learn to fear me.

There are things
I wished I'dve said to her
when I had the chance, There are days
when I wish I would've spoken my mind.
And there are times
when I wonder why I didn't, But now in the revelation
of my possible success
I wish her
here
by my side, though metaphorically and emotionally she always will be
but physically
I need her support.
Just like she needed mine.
But, millions and millions of miles away it feels
from her comforting glance, from the inexplicable
Freedom
she granted me, the
Confidence
she bestowed in my heart and now I wish
I wish she was somehow here again.

What am I? I am a woman.
A woman fully equipped with an understanding that can only be achieved through exposure to atomic *******. After twenty-eight years of familiarity with the follies of man, I’ve grown. I’ve grown into wisdom, I’ve grown as a mother, sister, daughter.
I’ve also LITERALLY grown. I’m an eighty foot tall spectacle.

For the ****, abuse, **** pics, war, objectification, toxicity, and laws of MAN, I arise from the depths. My frame paints a terrifying silhouette against the sunset streaked horizon.
I am an atomic monstrosity, a giantess hellbent on conquering YOUR world: to rampage is an understatement.
Donning a crown of destruction, with massive hands dripping in palpable carnage, I am a disastrous threat to YOUR society.

Run for your lives, mother *******. We are all transforming. Women are GROWING in 2020. We are gnashing, stomping, fire breathing vehicles of YOUR apocalypse. We brought you into this world, surely we can take you out. You done ****** up.

Collectively, we are making our debut. You won’t know it until we’re looking down on you. Most will be eaten, some will be spared (you know, not “ALL” guys). Your tiny lifeless bodies will litter in the streets, but only for the day—
It’s a new dawn, and we she-monsters clean up our ******* messes.

So many of you are toxic Christians but don't know it because you pray so much you forget to open your eyes and look at the real world

You needed someone, so I was there
I would stay up late
Listen to all the problems
and feelings you bare

You got over the last guy fast
You found another guy for a while
but didnt care if this one would last
You started asking questions about how I felt
I thought you cared
but little did I know... you love mind games
And the cards you had prepared to be dealt
You used my information get this guy
Your bestfriend....my ex
I still wanna know why

You could've had him all along
But instead you used me
No caring about how its wrong
You both are meant for each other
You both are the same
You both love playing stupid revenge games

You send me pictures of you two together
Is that supposed to make my heart flutter
Goosebumps form across my skin as if grazed by a feather?
.....Cause it doesn't
You and him can both *******
No longer will I associate with you both
Your a waste of my time
a breathe, or even a cough