I won’t forget the way your eyes look down upon me
The condescension in your voice
I won’t forget the dismissal of my pain
As the horrors of my inadequacy confine me
Hurt me terribly so
But maybe you like my pain
I want to prove you wrong
That my life is as worthy as yours
But my throat closes around me
It lists me in
Turns me inside out
Exposes my innards and true dark horrors
That of which I’m nothing
Nothing worth more
Your very existence continues to triumph mine
While my own breath wastes away
I want you to hurt
As badly as I do
But I cannot hurt you
You’re too much for me to handle
You eat me away at every core
I hate you
I hate you
Why am I not enough
Why was I cursed in this feeble body
My self pity does me no good
While yours gives you an army
Don’t look at me
I know how little you think of me
I want to cut my throat and bash my arms
Bleed all over you
Give you all of my struggles
Be free of my deference
The ice I wear is silence.
As for diamonds, I don't own them.
The stone I choose is cold.
I save ruby for my lips.
I save swagger for my hips.
I save crystal for my gin.
And the only thing I age is grace.
As for me I grow divinity-
The sin in me,
is confidently rising as I walk into the room.
If I make you feel I'm naked
when your burden down with fur-
"What does he see in her?"
If I make you feel uneasy,
and hold him just so tighter
because my steps are lighter
although my thighs are trunks
like mighty oaks they hold me high
so I can match my Tiffany eyes
to the Tiffany sky.
Wear your silver, wear your gold.
And I'll wear nothing loud and bold.
How dare I not adorn.
Not care about your scorn?
I am the bracelet that wraps the wrist,
I am the earrings lazy laying.
Designers drape me in goddess garb
while your childish glitter is fraying.
I wear years like men wear watches-
Proud and vainly count the notches.
Watch me slither, watch me wander.
Helpless but to become fonder.
This is a statement about aging and social media and the eternal dialogue of women and value.
everyday that i wake,
i step out of bed,
and see the same thing.
i am a woman,
i am punk.
i am punk
not because i look it,
but because my existence
defies the world at large.
i was born with holes
in my brain,
and a dead twin,
with a doctor saying,
“she won’t live long”.
i grew up being told to
i grew up being told to
listen and obey.
but being a woman means
i refuse to listen to
anyone but me.
no laws can govern
or my thoughts.
i see a woman everyday
and i know
she is punk.
I dedicated my life
to stay by your side
respect our relationship & to always love you right,
keeping a vow to never cross any boundary line.
But you showed a different side.
An unexpected twist that brought tears to my eyes.
Your energy changed.
From positive to negative, this affection & demeanor wasn’t the same.
Anytime my friends called to check on me or hangout, you yell.
Cursing out my name as if I brought shame into our relationship.
Now I can’t breathe...
I can’t breathe because I’m traumatized,
I’m traumatized because I can’t socialize,
I can’t socialize because I ghosted my friends for you so now I hide in fear
You stole a peace of my mind to the point where I can’t even recognize who I am anymore.
Which causes me to feel less of a “Woman” inside.
But no more!
Times have changed
Somewhere along the road I found strength.
Gain the courage to move on & think about what’s best for me
rather than sink back into your arms.
See, I've learned that you never had power...
You were a simple weak man
trying to devour a Queen’s castle
rather control your own **** tower
like the lowlife peasant you are.
But now that you are gone,
it is safe to say
I am better without you in every way.
So stay your bch a off of my phone.
There’s nothing here for you, please leave me alone.
Your words mean nothin', so please hold your tongue &
don’t worry about the next man I f-k with
nor I am lovin'.
Just know it will never again be you,
you’re no longer a discussion
good riddance , peace out boo boo.
--What a Life --
a young lady studies her chest in the mirror,
a valley as flat and dry as a parched tongue
she pops her ***** out, hoping for mounts
to rise like baking bread. they never form.
have patience, dearest one.
temples don't ***** in a day.
she observes what lies below the waist,
the Nile river without a taint of blood
she waits for the gore to come, the rose
to grow in her belly. it never arrives.
live and let live, my angel.
nature doesn't rush her work.
she surveys the straightness of her hips,
a tree trunk with no shape whatsoever
she tightens her dress, longing to see the faint
curve of her waist. it doesn't work.
the time will come, my child.
your body will blossom.
like the sunrise.
A poem dedicated to all women and girls out there.
A blank page invites opportunity;
searches for a voice.
You fear her words,
so you sculpt her before she finds them.
She does not ease like clay, moulded
with warm, purposeful hands, but
bends; stiff and rigid.
You fold her into something pretty
or delicate or curious.
Only then can you gaze upon each deliberate
crease and see your work is done;
when a paper crane sits upon a dusty
shelf. Pleasant, polite,
quiet – yours.
I am an ocean:
Unknown. Still like broken
glass and just as threatening.
But no man calling himself
messiah can tame me
beneath his foot, nor
cleave me in two
for his convenience;
calling it providence.
May my shadows swallow
I want my eyes to cut
my tongue to bash
my fists to beat till ******
I want to scream till my throat
runs raw & red
for my tears to burn holes
my teeth to sink
I don't intend to be
a gentle thing
made up of rubies, pearls
all things that smell sweet
for my soul carries with it
a vicious bite
a raging fire
made up of passion
& foolish pride
not meant to be tamed
but loved fearlessly
& without abandon
I'm tired of this notion that women were made to be soft and loving
when my body started changing,
i was asked to change with it.
my friend gave me concealer,
should be called "conceal-her"
why aren't boys asked to cover their face?
what's the point of a bra?
surely not my comfort,
the wire stabbed my ribs and
straps dug valleys in my shoulders
i was sent home to change
because the sight of my skin
was deemed ******
and when i was called fat?
i starved myself so that i would be wanted
and then they called me flat.
at what point can i just be myself?
Feet forced into baby slippers
Clothes to conceal uncomfortable truths
Like I've long outgrown childlike innocence
No one sees me, not really
How despicable to look womanly
Distilled vocabulary and rehearsed conversations
Filtered through an incoherent smile
No one hears me, not really
Too old to enchant with toddler-like speech
Too young to deserve respectability
Not allowed to feel, not allowed to express
Only to impress with conformity
To perform one's role and nothing more
The humanness of improvisation outlawed
My ****** form to render the illusion of crowdedness
My presence, a filler for awkward spaces
Laugh a little louder at jokes that yell for rescue
Feign attention to those whose lives depend on it
A thin veneer called Family unites us
The intersection of our bloodlines
The confluence of our past
Keeps alive the supremacy of hierarchy
The only condition to love and be loved unconditionally
My heart is caged in Privilege
To bleed even a little is to be ungrateful
Blood on the floor is embarrassing!
Wipe quickly all evidence of yearning
Here you must remain for all eternity;
Unfeeling, Unchanging, Unworthy