He grabbed your hair
pulled it
you again.

You recalled
the last time
he pushed a letter
in your face
and said
read it
read the damn letter.

But he pushed
you down
on the sofa
and held
the crumpled up letter
and said
what's it
going to be huh?
you want to go
with him
or stay with me?

This time
it was all over
him not
getting promotion
on his job
as if you
were to blame.

You never did
want me to get
that promotion
did you huh?
you want me
to remain
just a clerk
on the ground floor
don't want me
up there
with the pros
getting a real salary.

He grabbed
your arm
yanked you
off the sofa
dragged you
along behind him.

You tried to resist
but he was so strong
when he was angry
that you followed him
not trying any more
to hold back.

Once he had you
in the bedroom
he began
to undress you
like you
were some kid
then he ripped off
the clothes
the white blouse
the one you wore
to go places
the skirt he bought you
after last time's row
but he ripped it off.

You stood there
staring at him
as he hit you
and the world
went white
then dim
and you didn't
know what to do
as he raped you.


The two cops
corner you
to a park bench
where you sit
puffed out
after the run
(as much as you
could run
in that heavy skirt).

One cop
takes your wrist
as if you'd resist
after all that.

The other cop
looks at you

Big beefy men
whom once
would not
have looked
at you twice
what with your
dark straight hair
oval face
pale and thin.    

One holding
your wrist
says something
about arrest
the other takes out
his handcuffs
and puts them
on your narrow wrists
and heaves you up
on your feet.

Others gather
women mostly
calling names
offering support.

You walk
as dignified
as you can
walking past
the crowd gathered
men jeering
women cheering.

Not to forget
(a voice calls)
you're a suffragette.


He'll not come
not after what
he said
you know it
but can't accept it.

That's how it is
no no
a voice says.

You know it
but maybe he'll
take it in his stride
me just me
being me
you muse.

You hold a hand
over your mouth
tears come
why do we do that
when we are
about to cry
hold a hand
over our mouths?

He'll not come
I know he won't
you let the words
talk in your head
just as well
he can't mind read.

He could
have had me
if he'd only asked
and not just
did those things.

become watery
as your eyes
fill with tears
and your throat
becomes sore
with the crying.

Soft crying
Mother used
to say.

Like when
your father
(brute of a man)
would belt you one
for something
or other
and you'd
cry softly.

He'll not
come now
not after
what was said.

The garden
looks a mess
you see it
as you stand
by the window
of your room.

The apple trees
and filling
with fruit
wasps go
in and out
of the fallen fruit.

He'll not come
not now.

I want him to
but there again  
don't somehow.


she breaks like this,
you just don't know it.

she breaks at 9 am in the dairy lane
of the nearest grocery store with
a list of what to buy and of what
to regret.

she breaks when she laughs but
it just doesn't seem right even
when the joke is so bad it's good
or her.

she breaks as she makes a call
people probably don't expect
because it's just out of the blue
and isn't her at all.

she breaks when the sun has risen
and her skin glows golden and radiant
she'd fix herself breakfast and it's the only
thing she'll attempt to fix.

she breaks when you tell her you love her
and as you treat her with revelation
but the only thing she thinks about
is how her body betrayed her.

she breaks when they call her 'pretty'
and maybe she'll appear flustered
they don't know her mirrors back home
makes her heart recoil.

she breaks when you don't see it
because she doesn't want you to
at all.

she breaks and you won't have a clue
because she doesn't even know that
she is.

lately i've been writing a lot to cope with what i feel and what i observe from around me.

she breaks, but she's alive. for her that's more than enough.
Weronika Jun 20

Her stealthy figure
Intensified the natural
which lost its own margin.
'A pure woman'...
a tragedy of the corrupted,
betrayed hunger.

Zan Balmore Jun 18

i'm not your sex toy i'm not your joke

woman or man? boy or girl?

you can keep wondering because

i'm a fey fuck wandering between worlds

let me make it too clear

for you to ignore

i'm not your estrogen or testosterone

you can write me as your punchline,

simple one, all you want

but you won't laugh away my hope

i'm not your material i am my own

the binarist dichotomy

kills us all

this pass/no pass bullshit

drives me up a wall

we are not experiments

for your experience

at our expense

let me make it too clear

i'm not your joke


hair locked in natural curls
deep brown eyes
almost black
ebony complexion
from head to toe
melanin on 100
o ma gawd
this young woman
is the black Queen
o ma gawd
why is she standing
so mean
from the curves
in her waist and thighs
to the curve
in her smiling cheeks
she knows she's beautiful
even mysterious
she knows why they say
o ma gawd

the strength of a black woman for she is a Queen
Lynn Al-Abiad Jun 18

Yes, I am crazy.
I am a fire, I do things I shouldn't do, I don't listen to good advises, I venture here and there, I listen to everyone and talk to no one, I touch people I shouldn't touch, I get undressed inappropriately, I run away to places only I know of, I lose myself in a long car ride, I always take the long way home when driving, I go to the beach and stay in the sea all day, I cut my hair when a story ends, or get a tattoo, I build walls in people's faces and destroy them when I feel comfortable around them, I spend more money than I make, I hop into strangers' cars everyday, I wear heels and go for long walks, I take routes that lead me to people I love, I sit on the edge of mountains with my legs hanging, I buy dance clothes and wear them everyday, I play songs I fall in love with on repeat for weeks, I yell out of happiness, I laugh oh so loud, ...
I am crazy because I can't be contained
I am crazy because I am curious about this world
I want to die with not a single "what if I had the courage?"
I apologize to those I hurt and will hurt
And I love back all those who fell in love with me
But most of all, I hope I grow through it all
I hope that, on my death bed, I can tell every crazy story to my sons and grand kids and die with a smile on my face, die happy, with all my memories flashing back inside my head.
I hope I become a fire that eats everything it meets and grows bigger and bigger, without burning, without leaving ashes behind, only bringing heat to those who have been feeling cold for a long while.

- LynnAA

Fire Sign.

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