#femme
Angel of hatred and toxicity
Irrelevant psychology
I wish I was pretty
I wish I wasn't lonely
Decorated bra straps
Flowers and deer tracks
Knives and sharpened screwdrivers
Tattoos are the only things that are permanent
Living on the world instead of in it
Kiss the scars on my wrists
Kiss the freckles on my skin
Be obsessed with me
Let me fall in love with you
Far too quickly
Let me be perverted
Only for you
Feb 19
Feb 19, 2026 at 10:58 PM UTC
Come closer
my father once told me
that between my *******
between my lips,
between my thighs,
lies a power without mercy.
I have learned to wield it like a blade.
My mind is the theatre,
my thoughts the stage where you are both
the hero and the sacrifice.
I will not simply kiss you
I will bind you,
thread your breath through mine
until you cannot remember
where you end and I begin.
I will lead you by the hand into velvet darkness,
make you believe it is safety,
then whisper the truth in your last moment of doubt:
I am the enchantress they warned you about,
the poison they served in a crystal glass.
They call me femme fatale,
but I am older than the name,
more ancient than fear.
I do not ****
I make you walk willingly
into your own beautiful ruin.
I blow a kiss, goodbye.
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 12:17 AM UTC
Fanm, fanm, o fanm rapadou
Boubout mwen, bèsom, kòmansmanm
Nan kaye jounalye mwen chak jou
Chak jou se pou ou, se jou pa ou
Ou se nanm mwen, poto pitanmm
Mwen renmen ou chak jou
Chouchoum, mwen renmen ou.
Bèl fanm, bèl cheri, bèl bote
Ou nan kèm tout la jounen
Ou okipe nan nan lavi mwen
Ou se Princess mwen, gran Majeste
Ou se larenn mwen, yon gran sous
Fanm, fanm, o fanm dous
Oksijèn mwen, bèl dam mwen.
Fanm, fanm, kinanm mwen
Etwal nan syèl, lalin lavi mwen
Ou se yon poupe orijinal, bèl fanm
Ou se moun ki konn naje, e rame nan lanm
Ou se yon fanm ki byen akonpli nan la Bib
Fanm, fanm, o fanm sansib
Ou se solèy kap klere palmis mwen an.
Wi ou se yon fanm natal fondamantal
Anj gadyen mwen, sent vyèj mwen, ala ou bèl
Lavi pagen oken sans san ou, chouchou
Ou se trezòm, fanm, fanm, espwa mwen
Ou se kèm, rèv mwen, nanm mwen
Fanm, fanm misterye, mwen damou ou.
P.S. Tradiksyon 'Joyous Women's Day'
Ki ekri Pa Hébert Logerie
Copyright © Mas 2019, Hébert Logerie, Tout dwa rezève
Hébert Logerie se otè plizyè liv pwezi.
Mar 14, 2025
Mar 14, 2025 at 9:41 PM UTC
I'm not an 'ingénue' anymore - that’s been vitiated.
I'm not innocent, pure, naive or vulnerable -
which are technically, 'ingénue' requirements
(I don’t make the rules).
That being said, if no one has an objection,
in terms of narrative trajectory, I'd like to be
considered a 'fémme fatale' until further notice.
.
.
Songs for this:
HEATED by Beyoncé
Hysterical Us by Magdalena Bay
11am 08.12
Aug 12, 2024
Aug 12, 2024 at 10:25 AM UTC
She's a would-be
Disney villainess
a temptress
She's a would-be
empress
a mogul-ess
She's a fear
and she's a longing
distant and yet, oh-so-near
She's a myth
and she's a nightmare
so subtle, yet full of pith
And so unreal
yet in reality, so sad
all because, she's ******* mad
Mad like the full moon
mad enough to tear her hair
don't you stare
Trope upon trope
we lay upon the forbidden woman
the discarded woman without hope
If only we had the eye of compassion
instead of berating her for her passion
we'd heal our lost mothers and daughters at last
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 12:58 AM UTC
there's these moments where I can't help but cringe.
the discomfort is really specific,
like the curdling noise of Styrofoam being meddled with.
and...
i smile involuntarily, ironically.
and...
i started speaking (really just whispering to myself)
with my hands like an angry girl who's about to fight.
because i am about to fight.
myself that is.
i have enough sense to scream at my
sisyphean dumb ***** self,
so why can't i use that same sense to squash her
before she does more damage?
hindsight only does so much when i end up
in the same lonely spot
endlessly.
Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 12:20 AM UTC
This femme fatale
A girl that captures
She be bright and skin tight
Shiny white with youth implied
Conversing in quirky loops
As we jump through her hoops
Slowly showing error codes
Could it be the alcohol
Clap snap of bear traps
Broken from within
Signs of white lines that fracture
Reactions to vast echoes of her past
Trauma tinged before the dawn
Soft but informed
A hardened persona with claws
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 9:59 PM UTC
Blood and lipstick femininity -
My heels crack concrete.
Redder than wine -
Smile in the corner,
Snarl along the fangs.
I bite what’s mine to claim it,
Eat it whole and raw!
Black dress, fiery hair,
Hips like an empress,
The undefeated conquerer.
I know you think you’re king -
Baby, I’m a lioness.
You’ll eat what I hunt,
Lick the gore from my lips -
My slavering red mouth,
My feminine blood and lipstick.
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 11:31 AM UTC
A part of me hopes that,
when I go meet him,
the devil will also be a too-much boy.
When he kisses me,
sickly sweet,
too hot, too much spiced honey tongue,
he’ll bite my lip on the first pass
and I’ll bite back.
Apr 20, 2020
Apr 20, 2020 at 10:52 AM UTC
Pruning in disdain,
irritation, tender pain.
The velvet flowers cause
you to tread-softly.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 8:04 PM UTC
I’d burnt out of the city, the long hours, high pressure financial job; and the uptight, high strung, high maintenance girlfriend. I’d walked out and away from the mess that had been my life, and found this place, far from it all, where time slowed, almost crawled, where there were no expectations, no schedules, no rules. Life was lived minute-by-minute, never giving a thought to what had to be done tonight, tomorrow, or for that matter, ever
I’d flown in to the frenzied capital, rented a car, and made my way out of the beehive, towards the Caribbean coast, buying a map and following the road eastward, not knowing where I was going, or what I had in mind. I just wanted to get away, to be lost in the jungle.
I would know the place when i saw it. It would feel right, like rain on a warm afternoon. I reached the coast, drove south, stopping at every village and bar along the way. There were barely any tourist, not much to see, no white sandy beaches, no ancient ruins, just countless impoverished fishing villages and family run kitchens to feed the locals, the fishermen, and occasional daring tourists
Night was coming. I stopped at a village, found a kitchen by the shore, and ordered my usual, casado and una cerveza; my favorite. I asked the house mama for a room. She said they didn’t have rooms, only hammocks on the edge of the shore. I paid for the meal and a hammock. A girl took my hand and showed me to the hammock. The fisherman were already asleep in their hammocks, their boats shored, nets folded on the side, ready for their early morning foray into the turquoise sea.
I woke, gently, to the sun brightening in the sky. I sat up, feet hanging off the hammock barely touching the sand. I got up, walked to the kitchen and sat at a table in a make shift court yard, palm leaves shading me from the sun, swaying slowly to the warm sea breeze. The house mama brought me gallo pinto with cafe con leche. Nothing had ever tasted so good.
I got on the road, driving along the coast, to my left was an endless expanse of turquoise to the horizon, to my right, unbroken wall of jungle. I drove nonstop, till I got hungry and stopped at a village for gas and lunch. I walked into the trading post, and looked around. There were all sorts of supplies remote villagers and fisherman would need. On a whim, I bought a hammock, machete, water, canned goods, and beer, what I thought were all the essentials.
I pulled out my map. There were no towns along this section of the road, only the occasional village. I was going to find a stretch of beach, setup camp, and chill, gazing out to the horizon until the sun set.
I drove slow, checking out the beaches for a place to camp. The shore was a continuous, nondescript, pale brown, until i rounded a bend and the view opened up to a cove. Through the palms, I could see a black sand beach. Intrigued, I pulled the car to the side of the road, and hiked down to the beach.
It was surreal. A secluded cove, black sand, fallen trees in the surf, the bark worn away from the abrasive sanding, branches reaching into the sky as if pleading for help. It was beautiful and eerie. But underneath it, I had a sense of foreboding. I couldn't figure out why and let it go, as I had found my little piece of paradise.
This was the spot I was looking for, far from the villages, secluded, isolated, unworldly. I unpacked my stuff, opened a beer, setup the hammock, and settled in, slowly, eventually, falling asleep.
I awoke at twilight. The temperature had cooled. If was comfortable, slightly balmy. The sun had set, the moon risen, hanging over the turquoise sea, casting a long reflection to the shore.
I looked out over the water, saw something, a shark, a dolphin, breaking the mirrored surface, probably hunting the shoals for food. I dismissed it, and thought twice about going for a swim.
I saw it again, this time close. I watched, curious, hoping to get a better view, when I saw a head, a human head, slowly bobbing up and down. I got out of my hammock, walked to the shore to get a closer look.
I looked out and saw eyes. The eyes of a woman looking intently back at me. An uneasiness rose up inside of me. What was a lone woman doing in the water, in the evening, this far off the beaten path. She wasn’t thrashing, screaming, just bobbing in the water looking at me.
She disappeared under the water. I watched, waiting for her to reappear. Was she a scuba diver? She surfaced, this side of the break, half her head protruding from the water. I could see her hair, eyes, and nose. She wasn’t bobbing, but kneeling in the the water.
We stood there, looking at each other. I didn’t move, didn’t want to scare her away. She moved closer to shore. I got a better look at her. She had black hair, tanned skin, and big eyes, like those of a Japanese anime character. I blinked, not understanding or what to make of her eyes. I wanted to back away, get some distance between me and her, but I couldn't. I was frozen in place.
She stood up, slowly, the water dripping down her hair, shoulders, chest. She was naked, tall, slim, with an hour glass figure and full, firm ******* She had the body of a goddess. She slowly walked up the beach, the full moon clearly visible behind her. I could see the rest of her, curved hips, long legs. She was a fantasy, walking out of my dreams into reality.
She walked up to me, stopped an arm’s length away. I looked into her eyes. They were big, beautiful, turquoise green, like the color of the sea behind her, even more unbelievable, were her pupils. They were vertical, like those of a cat.
Fear rose up in me. My gut told me to run. But another part of me was intrigued, worst, turned on, so I stayed, frozen in place. She had the beauty of a goddess, I was enthralled, I knew it. She knew it. Her right hand slowly reached out to me, touching my cheek, gently. Her eyes looking into mine for a reaction. I was getting flushed. My heart raced. My breath fast, a mixture of fear and lust. She put her palm around the nap of my neck, pulled me slowly to her, tilting her head, and kissed me, softly, gently on the lips. I started kissing back, getting aroused. She put her arm across my small of my back and pulled me into her, my body pressed into hers. I could feel her softness, warmth, inviting, and comforting.
I put my hands on her hips, sliding down to cup her checks. She started to kiss me more aggressively, sliding her tongue in my mouth, ******* my lower lip into her mouth and biting down hard. I could feel the lust and passion in her kisses. I succumbed to her seduction.
She lowered me down gently on to the sand, straddling, kissing me ever more fervently. She started unbuttoning my shirt, then ripped it open. She slide off my shorts and mounted me, sliding down to bottom of the shaft, rocking back and forth, her hands pressed against my chest. Her moans were soft, spasmodic, as she tilted her head back. She increased the intensity of her rocking, her moans grew louder, more intense, more visceral.
Her beauty was intoxicating, her moans exciting, her every rock getting me closer, amplifying my arousal, till I came, convulsing in her arms, in ecstasy.
She rolled over, flipping me on top of her, making sure I was deep inside her, a slight smile of satisfaction on her lips.
She laid her head back onto the sand. I slide off and to her side her. She got up, looked me in the eyes, then started walking towards the water. I got up, chasing after her. She walked deeper into the surf. I followed.
When the water reached her waist, she dove in the an coming wave and disappeared. I expected her to surface, but she didn’t. I walked faster, then paddled, then dove after her. I swam out, beyond my footing, past the breakers. I treaded water looking for her. I swam out further, knowing the danger.
She reappeared, bobbing in the water, looking at me expressionless. Her eyes said everything, seducing me to her. I swam towards her, as she swam away, going further out to sea. The water got deeper, bluer, colder.
She stopped. I caught up to her. We floated looking at each other. She drifted into me. Kissed me. I put an arm around her waist and pressed her into me. I wanted her, to have her, forever. I knew she was magical, grasped that she was a mermaid. I didn’t care. I was oversensed, no longer thinking, just feeling. I wanted more of her.
We sank into the water, entwined, embracing, kissing. I couldn’t get enough. I needed air, but ignored it, preferring the euphoria of her body. The urgency to breath grew, becoming uncomfortable, then painful. I stopped kissing and let her go. She held on, tightening her arms around me. I pushed against her, trying to break free. My lungs caught fire, my mind panicked. I thrashed against her. Then all went black, my body relaxed. I went flaccid, as a peace came over me. She held on, as I convulsed, a final time, in her arms.
Jan 19, 2020
Jan 19, 2020 at 2:06 PM UTC
i am one of my own
what has been decided for me
and yet what i cannot be
if only because i cannot be it right
becoming a scavenger,
i pick apart what remains
from the carcass of femininity
clawing and ripping and tearing
and taking from gender
whatever i desire
for what has gender done for me?
aside from putting on a collar
and controlling my every move
deciding what i do
and how and when and why i do it
stealing what i can
and turning it upside down
looking starlit and airy
while still solid with rage
and being oh so tender with her
and protective from the rest
raccoon eyes and evening gowns
leather boots and lace socks
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 11:46 PM UTC
She once let the world see her as a glass, fragile, delicate, transparent. She used to pray like God was listening. She used to make her parents proud. Until she was caught between two things: Who she needs to be and who she wants to be.
She was daisies, calm and safe
But she wanted to be a rose, confident and wild.
Into the forest she goes... to lose her mind and find her soul.
"You've change for the worst", they say.
Why should she apologize for being the monster that she is, when nobody apologized for turning her into one?..
She was not born to be soft and scared,
She was born to make the world change
To have it shatter and shake in her fingertips.
It's for you to decide whether she's heaven wrapped in hell
Or hell wrapped in heaven.
You may not believe in magic, but wait till you see her.
Her heart was never this brave, she dances with her Devils, they call her "Queen".
She had been in so many heartbreaks that her own heart learned how to saw. Forgotten flowers in lonely gardens, grow wicked blooms. She is fragile in nature, But that's what made her powerful, she made a fragile thing unbreakable. She wears her strength and darkness equally well. She's half Goddess, and half hell.
//K.P, 07022019
Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 1:37 PM UTC
which one was i, the meddlesome moth or the bumbling butterfly
was i instinctively drawn, to an open flame, on a lonely night
or, caught in intricately, meticulously, woven spider’s web
how could i avoid either fate, all men are dumb and succumb, as did i
both end the same, in death, only one is fast, the other slow
how sweet it was, to have kissed her lips, to have been, her lover
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 8:25 PM UTC
The grey noir ambience posing on the wall
Shiny black whips that won't hurt at all
Listen to the rustle of the chains on her hips
Leather velvet skin and satin lips
Fall to your knees
Femme fatale
High-heeled boots on the bed
Femme fatale
Frame the words she said
Femme fatale
As she strikes the blow
Still you can't go
Your femme in leather is waiting
The foreboding cold that breaks you into a sweat
That rushing cacophony you won't forget
You feel her eyes pierce your skin
As you realise who'll win
You softly whisper please
Femme fatale
Watch her mouth turn red
Femme fatale
Hands lightly tread
Femme fatale
To her a debt you owe
So put on for her a show
Your femme in leather is waiting
And despite all this you know
That you still love her so
Your femme in leather is waiting
How good it is to please
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 12:42 PM UTC
As women we are conditioned to love what breaks us
Because unconditional love isn’t a skill to be cultivated,
It’s an expectation we so painfully fill.
As women we are told that there is meaning in our silence.
That our beauty lies within what stays untold,
That our voices limit our inherent value.
As women we must mold ourselves
Into one of a hundred cookie cutter
Versions of the same person that
We deem an acceptable form of femininity.
They tell us that this is our identity
When really it’s a way to make ourselves
Palatable.
As women we must apologize for conformity
And we must apologize for breaking away.
The female population lacks the luxury
Of confidence without judgement
Because we fear it won’t make us as simple.
As women we are tailored to please the world.
The burden we carry aches with all of the moments
We wish we could have done something different and didn’t.
I am tired of the rules.
I am tired of the chains.
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC
you are a storm in the sea around you
my words don't express much
but your eyes twinkle in the starlight
heavenly, even the gods are envious of you
your heart of gold beats louder than any lion in the wild
it's all you
it's you whom they want
it's you whom they seek
enticing, your thoughts bigger than your own words
you are celestial
take your hand in mine
twiddle with my thumb
i'll keep your heart in my palm
i'll keep you warm
safe, even build you a home
a woman sculpted out of ocean waves
you are celestial
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 8:11 PM UTC
Hair long and dark like a silken night,
her eyes glazed over, lips pastel silent.
Every so often sips a cold long island,
no jazz musician but her feet tap in time and
she's skin like China, won't crack even for a smile.
While people try to please her she will only check the time and
she's not a people pleaser for she'll bore within a while.
Perfume carried by the breeze,
she's freezing, smoking outside.
Her cheeks are apple red but her eyes, quitely tired.
She claims your jokes are dead and then she'll laugh like bitter cider-
a bittersweet pink lady brought to life beneath the night's limelight
the apple of the eye of every single man in sight
He'll ask her if she knows this song
and she replies 'no, not tonight.'
He'll ask if she enjoys herself.
Blankly, she says 'yes, quite.'
The room a-brim with deep jazz sounds:
she sings sweet melodies aloud,
she sways as if no one's around,
she sighs, it doesn't make a sound.
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC
The heart of a dragon;
A young girl tames.
Her femme fatale;
Will be the end of him.
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 7:08 PM UTC
I'm clever as the devil
and twice as pretty,
I'm on the same level
so save me your pity.
With words used as bullets
in attempt to pierce my heart,
I'm a woman who's overworked and crooked
all the while you got a head start.
All I wish for is equality
but you feel offended,
but tell me honestly:
if we're so equal, then why hasn't sexism ended?
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 12:11 PM UTC
There's that word
for girls like me:
the ones who
didn't see the point
of princesses.
The active ones who
run and jump and slide
and can't be bothered
to stand around the
playground sidelines,
whispering and trading
in spots of character assassination
or information.
"Tomboys" they call
those girls
and maybe later
"butch" or
"masculine of center."
I notice how
there's never
"feminine of center."
But really,
I've always felt impatient with that word
"Tomboys."
Why should a girl who wore
dangling earrings
but liked the things they label
"boys things"
want a word that suggests she's
something other than what she's not?
An aspirational boy?
A girl who grew up into
a closeted girl
with short hair, no make-up and a love of
jewelry.
Whose first girlfriend post-coming out,
took one look and said "But you're a femme!"
Please, please, understand.
In my heart I am a pirate king,
of the eighteenth-century variety:
big sword, big earrings, big weapons.
On the threshold of middle age,
somewhere on the spectrum of gender,
What word describes me?
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 9:00 PM UTC