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Society defines me
in one of two hues; either I present
myself in solitary stains of black -
pushing against the many
men trying to please their
prying fingertips;
or I pull fast - the blinding
white of a greedy need
so deep it carries the weight
of every woman, and with my emptiness
I taint the female race
blank - no clear definition (just vines
reaching for stability); strange,
how people crave
definitions when the world
paints itself so beautiful
in all the colors we neglect.
 Mar 2014 W Winchester
PrttyBrd
She found peace
Alone
In the dark
With her **demons
3914
10w
 Mar 2014 W Winchester
Theia Gwen
They say that little girls
Are made of sugar,
And spice,
And everything nice

But perfect girls
Are made of Botox,
Long smokes,
And diet coke

— The End —