Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
MuseumofMax Nov 8
You would not even exist without women

How dare you try to claim them

How dare you try to own their bodies
To control their wombs

How dare you disrespect the mother that gave you life

How dare you hate us when we created you
MuseumofMax Oct 30
There’s a beauty hidden in normal days

Getting ready in the morning


Going to work, going to class


Coming home to cat meows and a soft bed

Sometimes I hate the repetitiveness, the normalcy of it all

But I love the habits I’ve made taking care of myself

I love staring into my eyes in the mirror when I’m still sleepy

I love petting my cats when they’re excited to see me

I love going to class when it feels like fall



Mostly I think I just miss your part in my routine

Your comforting presence in my bed holding me before I get up

Your whispers of sweet nothings as I brush my teeth

Your smile when you see me come back after a long day

I guess I don’t mind so many normal days

I just hope you can start living them with me
I hope you can stay.
MuseumofMax Oct 22
We’re not in the movies

But when I look into your eyes I see blue and purple static

If I stare long enough I get lost in starless pools of deep blue

I could drown in them if you’d let me
the wrong one
will find you in peace
and end up leaving you in pieces

only the right one
can find you in pieces
and guide you to peace
MuseumofMax Oct 15
Why
Mother

Why did you let us go home to him


Why did your world not stop when I told you


I am so full of your love

But at night I wonder if your negligence discounted it

I know your mind is like mine, scattered and foggy

I know you were lost too

But I needed someone to get help

And I asked you.
MuseumofMax Oct 15
You
You are hidden in moments everywhere
MuseumofMax Oct 3
I used to think we were the Little Women

Louisa May Alcott wrote about

Meg was the oldest, responsible and kind

Jo was the middle child, passionate and determined

And I was Amy, stubborn and young.

Now I see each sister in myself and in them.

Seraiah has the drive and intelligence of Jo and her independence, yet the softness of Meg, the soul of Beth. But the beauty of Amy.

Cianna is a romantic like Meg and fiery like Amy, she always knew what she wanted. Like Jo she never gave up and chose what was right for her. Like Beth she finds solace in her home.

And myself..

I still bear the bluntness of Amy, her stubborn realism. But my writing is of Jo’s spirit, free and adventurous, words dancing across the page. I love like Meg does and strive to be like Beth, she appears in my homeliness.

We may not be the girls Alcott wrote of but our stories live on in my script. Our childhood selves saved away in the corners of my mind, waiting to appear on a page, preserved.

One day I’ll write us, our story, our lives


But to me we’ll always be my

Little Women.
Next page