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Ritika Dutta Apr 2020
Overlook the fragile hourglass figure

Beyond corsets and pseudo-beauty rules,

Endorse thy curves and stretch marks strewn,

The dusky skin and frizzy curls,

Braille like pimples on the face

Discoloration, bumps and pores;

This Body shaming, I shall pass.

Writhing in pain and humiliation,

Drenching in rage and insecurity

While I lie,

Society curses me

Defining and redefining my chastity;

'T was the crop top, the alcohol and the sly behavior.

You set the monster free and blame the ****

This Victim shaming, I shall pass.

Beige and ebony;

They call me names blatantly

Betwixt skin color and bleached smiles.

Laugh and scoff all you want.

Harass the Black, detain them,

Prejudiced minds rule your dystopian world.

This Black shaming, I shall pass.

Without creating a labyrinth of stigma,

And seeking refugee in collective blame,

Let's construct our utopian world

Acknowledging all freaks and flaws

This Shaming, we shall pass.
Merry Aug 2019
They say only the good die young
I don't think that's quite right
Unless I'm more rotten than you
Your lungs were polluted
Your legs were open
And yet it was your casket
Which closed first
Bella Nov 2017
Thank you mom

for using harsher words,
than the boys in middle school did

for teaching me to love myself,
and then **** shaming me

I should let you know that all the boys at school were joking,
but from the tone in your voice I knew that you weren't

Thank you Mom

for bringing up impossible conversations,
in situations where I can't escape

like that lovely conversation in the car,
on the way home from school

the one about birth control,
when I desperately tried voice my opinion for the hundredth time

hoping that maybe you'd finally understand,
there was no need for it

nothing good or helpful came from it,
only inconvenience and discomfort

Thank you Mom

for leaving me stripped and naked,
with a spotlight shining on me

there's nowhere to go,
nowhere but out the car door onto the highway

that actually didn't seem like a bad option,
I always have preferred blood to tears

Thank you Mom

for expressing how you,
“don't want to raise your grandchild”

it's like, when I said I'm waiting,
it went through one ear and out the other, for the hundredth time

Thank you Mom

for giving me so much confidence,
and then taking it back, More easily than you gave it to me

Thank you Mom

for giving me such confidence,
that I'm a disappointment
My mom is good until she isn't. Like outright saying, "I don't want to raise my grandchild"
CC Oct 2017
The photos were leaked today
They were of a **** woman with brown skin
Love making as she stared straight into the lenses
I was showed by a man who did not know how to react once I had been shown
My reaction was not shock
I merely stated "That's baad"
I did not know how to react to the staunch cyber-bully who was sure he was doing himself a justice by being so open about his anger at the naked, brown, humiliated, naked, shamed, beautiful
I am shamed by his shaming
I am naked by his *******
I am beautiful by myself sometimes
Sometimes I take the tape off my camera and position it near my bloom
I am not alone in this activity and yet I feel alone in an intimate situation, feel less alone, in a private situation.
Sometimes I work it so that every part of my dark lips are shadowed and my fingers seem to work for a living rather than play
My body is not a string
It is a temple of dark things
It is a ossuary filled with the dust of former lives
It is not to be dangled for cats for play
It has no puppet hands
Or puppet face
It smiles because it sees you smile
And she frowns when she sees you laugh
It is alive
The misfortune you hope her body will bring her is shame
I hope it will bring other people enlightenment
The fault is not in her
The fault is in the malicious, villainous, caricature of man who is hallow and made of maddening bells
Every time you disturb him he rings in announcement "This lady I had once an intimate relationship and she abused me. Here is her punishment."
We are all cavernous tunnels with lights to shoot out of the pins and needles sensational feelings we do not desire this but we must desire to be freed from being owned by this
We all think we're exempted from shame until we are ashamed
There are no exemptions, only more bells
They ring, until background noise renders them obsolete to us
s Jan 2016
Call me a ****
I'm a ******.
Call me a ****
I was *****.
Call me a ****
I want to have ***.
Call me a ****
I *******.

Call me a ****
I fell in love.
Call me a ****
I kissed a boy.
Call me a ****
I touch myself.
Call me a ****
there's things I enjoy.

Call me a ****
he hurt me.
Call me a ****
I said no.
Call me a ****
he did it anyway.
Call me a ****
I don't know.

Call me a ****
I can hear you.
Call me a ****
scream it loud.
Call me a ****
although I might cut.
Call me a ****
like you're proud.

Call me a ****
it will hurt me.
Call me a ****
This I swear.
Call me a ****
I know it's not true.
Call me a ****
it's not fair.
Audra Apr 2015
I spend my nights scrubbing my skin raw to rid myself of the filth your hands left on my hips. I cannot cleanse my body of the places your lips caressed. I cannot turn back time and erase every moment of pleasure that ultimately changed the way people view me. When they look at me they should see who I am not who has put their hands on me. I am not a lesser being because I have been touched. I refuse to sit back and be labeled as a impure while you get praised for the same action. I refuse to succumb to sexist values. I will not tolerate being treated this way. The shame you and others have put on me ends here.

— The End —