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c Jan 2018
Sometimes I want to be held and whispered “beautiful” promises to but
Other times I need no excuses to run streets
caked head to high-heel in low-cut, skin-tight, green-light layers
Each curvature unapologetically weaved
into some savior’s careful bow
These curves were never hers to call home
They dwell under the thumb of some street man or
That sweet man you once called your own, but
Before he strived to own you
Like a toothbrush or a window
These things don't come so easy
For the one they call Eve
Or no, how did it go?
Something about an apple or a tree or
A woman free to live freely without a he
Though she’s meant to bare the root of all being
We
Pinned the scheme
On her

--
c
Thinking of You Jan 2018
I got to the point where I didn’t have enough self-respect to get out of it for myself.

But I did it for my daughter.

Let me explain.

I loved a guy. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I’m not sure if it’s one of those loves that can be replicated.

But like most crazy loves we were toxic and our highs were in the clouds and our lows were in hell.

We did things.
We both did things.
That were not ok.

After we ended it.
He ****-shamed me.  

He called me easy.
Worthless.
A notch on a belt.

It was awful.
It was cruel.
It was All said in anger.

After time went on we reconciled. He apologized for what he said. He tried to make amends. He’d call me and say things to **** me back into this chaos of us.

I wanted to go back.
I still want to go back sometimes so ******* bad that it eats at my soul.

But I don’t.

And I don’t do it because of my fierce self-love. I wish I could say I do.

I wish I dig my heels in and look into the mirror and give myself a fierce talk and I’m good.

But sometimes that’s not enough.

When it’s not.
I do it for my daughter.

Because I will not allow her to have a father who has ****-shamed her mom.

I will not allow her to have a sexist father, who thought less of a woman because of the number of people she chose to have *** with.

I will not sit on her bedside when she’s crying over a boy and tell her she deserves to be treated better when I know I chose I did not.

I will not be the coward that tells her to be strong while gritting my teeth to suppress the memories of abuse I have endured.

I will sit on her bedside.
Look her dead in the eye and tell her, honestly.

I have been there before.
I left.
I’m better for it.

I decided to raise the bar for all women when I took a stand for what was unacceptable and she can and should continue to raise that bar.

In that moment. It will be worth it.
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
unfair, unfair
life is unfair they say,
it will all be okay they say,
They Turn.

****, ****
you wanted it they say,
you should have known they say,
i Cry.

Quiet, Quiet!
shut up leave me alone i say!
make it stop i say!
i screamed.

pain, pain
i just want to feel something i think,
NO ONE even cares anymore i think,
i’m gone.

sorry, sorry…
we didn’t realize it was that bad they say,
we didn’t mean it they say,
They deceive.

good, good
she did this to herself they think
We did what we could they think  
They make excuses.
  
Unfair, unfair
Life is unfair i said...
It's people like you that make me feel sick
You feed people lies just to get your **** licked
You confuse me you use me you leave me for dead
I can't stand it this hate that I feel for the man in my bed.
She was a nice person before,
Until she became a *****.
I asked her; "Why did you do that?"
and she replied; "Because I am a ****."

Dancing in front of the boys,
And the men makes some noise.
But I suddenly grabbed her hand,
and I said that you would understand.

"Look, I can help you." as I said to her.
"You don't have to." and then she pulled her hand.
I was left stupid in my position,
and now It's part of my confusion.
Jamie Rose Nov 2017
I didn't want to send you pictures of my body
Naked and vulnerable
I told you no
You say please
I say no
You get angry
How dare I not fold like paper under your command
"You're just a little ****" you say
You called me a **** for not wanting to strip for you
You called me a **** because I did not let you control me
I am not a ****
I am not your puppet
Don't whisper these lies into my ear after tearing me apart with just your words
Don't tell me you're sorry
You meant what you said
sadgirl Oct 2017
//

if a woman
drops her clothing
and shows what is
too precious to
be shown even on
film,

she has her miranda rights,
her indecent exposure trials
and ever dollar used to bail her
out of a cold cell were they offered
her a hospital gown

but she also has the
eyes that follow her up
the street, asking, begging
to touch
and if that woman says no,
or says nothing
than the woman still has

control of what is done
to her body,
control of every hand that tries to
pry away her god-given
right to be safe in her own skin

//

if a girl decides to
wear a short shirt,
or fishnet tights,
or bright lipstick

that costs anywhere from ninety-nine cents
to ninety dollars,
and she applies it with a heavy hand,
like her mascara and eyeshadow,
then she is still

human, she is still
a valid human being
who does not deserve
your time and voice
to call her a ****
or say something along
the lines of

don't go out looking like that
or you'll get *****
but **** is never,
ever, ever
the fault of the victim

//

if a woman
or girl
decides to cover her hair,
to abide by her
religion, the religion that
held the hands of every woman
in her family,
from sister to great-great-great-great-great

grandmother
she is not a threat
to our country
she is a member of our society,
a valuable and beautiful one, at that
who's culture can guide us
to be even kinder
in the name of god

and if a woman
or girl
decides to long sleeves
and a high-necked top
with a long skirt
alongside her hijab,

she is not matronly,
she is modest,
and modest is as beautiful
as a gucci crop-top
or a pair of sky-high louboutins

//

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

*there were men
who were there for us,
who fought for us,
and then now,
there is a man who will fight
us as we march,
so we need to be strong
and support each other,
remember the golden rule,
and know each of our gods
would want this for
our world
Inspired by Joe Biden.
The lipsticks I reference exist! Wet and Wild is ninety-nine cents. Christian Louboutin is ninety dollars.
Gemma Oct 2017
I've let my body get so used I don't even want to touch myself anymore
My skin is not mine it is for anyone who wants it
My thighs are not the miraculous limbs that I owe my many great travels to, they are only miles of skin that begs to be touched.
My hair is not silk to cascade over my ears and frame my face, it's purpose is to be wrapped around your fingers and yanked.
Every ripple of pleasure
is a disguise for my disgust, the worthless feeling of being nothing more than a pretty new toy.
You do not worship me but you worship my ability to rip an ****** from your body.
You leave me used and abused in more ways than one
and just like a pretty new toy,
after you play with me
I become as worthless to you
as I have become to myself.
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