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Kara Jean Jun 2016
From the moment I took a breathe,
I was thrown into a narrow way of life.
Unfair way of thinking.
Stunting my progression.
I had to be the perfect little Mormon girl.
"Stand up straight.
Talk like a young lady."
I couldn't express my individuallaity.
Ironically the way god made me.
The words dug in deep perpetually.
"Your eyeliner is to deep you look like a harlet.
What the hell are you wearing?"
I dressed to **** and **** meant ***.
*** made you a deformed unbloomed flower unless you were married.
I was misinformed constantly.
I didn't want to go to hell I wanted my family to support me.
I put on show for far to long trying to please everybody.
I couldn't understand why something so true and great could bring nothing but shame and misery.
I gave my everything and it was killing me.
I was drove to the fine line of insanity.
Free falling down so beautifully.
Finding myself in an erratic deranged way.
No longer following any man into the ground.
Keeping the firm heart within me.
You've got a shield to hide behind,
For now.
You've got his eyes locked on you,
For now.
The day will come.
His eyes will widen in realization of your selfish carcas of a personality,
Your shield will dissolve away with your fears beginning to consume your body inch by inch.
And when that day comes you will wish you never stepped a foot on this planet, your worst nightmares will become your dreams.
Succubus will become nothing to what the glass shattered before you will reveal.
No number of ghosts or demons will compare to what your eyes will feast upon the day this world reaches through your chest and clenches the rock of a heart you posses tearing it out of your frail body.
You will sit in a chair strapped as can be and watch as your pebble of a heart is crushed with the hammer of your own self pitty.
Beg for nightmares for they are the least frightening for what will stand your way.
And as your blood runs from the slit in your throat to the paved floors, a smile bigger than sunlight will stare right at you.
Thirsty for blood and no blood tastes more rewarding than the one from the knife which penetrated right through your worthless body of a harlet.
The night the psychopath within will be unleashed to feast on the taste of your selfish, ice cold blood and flesh.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros
Oops
Leah Rae Oct 2013
I... Wanna wrap my hands around a thick pole

of a carousel ride on our first date at the carnival.

I wanna swirl my tongue swiftly around

an ice cream cone when we take a trip to the ice cream parlor.

I wanna ride hard and *******

when we go horseback riding at your cousin's ranch...  

I wanna feel it pounding into me,

your heart when we dance close.

I wanna feel it on my face,

I'm talking about sunlight!

Why are you laughing?!

If you're too uncomfortable to hear

and I'm equally uncomfortable to say,

then why are we here, this is poetry, isn't it?

If I was a boy talking about banging chicks would that make this easier to swallow?

Does femininity have to keep me bound & gagged, I've heard my mother tell me enough times to act like a lady
But what does that mean?

Legs crossed, eyes open, voice low, mascara stenciled eyelids with crimson scarlet lips,

They'd say she tastes like innocence-  isn't that why we dress up like school girls?

Pigtails and short skirts.

Call me naughty one more ******* time

Every video labeled with triple x's is marketed to the opposite ***, but we deserve to feel good too.
Even if that means inviting men into the hotel rooms of our bodies, ill scale the sheets to find myself between them if I have to.
The pursuit of happiness belongs to us too,

and if that means ******* a couple of dudes, what's it to you?

Harlet,
stumpet,
****
*****,
*****,
****

It all comes down to what we keep between our thighs:

All I know is that we turn against each other, each article of our unclothed bodies is like at crime scene wrapped in yellow tape, call me a massacre because I've been killing boys since the day they tasted my breath and called me pretty.

Beautiful
Gorgeous
Stunning
Perfect
Plastic

Carved from silicon, I'm developing cancerous distractions, the world painting my body and it's actions side show attractions. They were ring leaders in this carnival of distortion. Grotesque and picturesque. All they wanted from this was a contortionist.

They asked for this
And It was always them,

Obsessed and hell bent.
They asked to see us naked, stripped down, hollow eyes, expected innocence, pretty mouths and closed lips, didn't want to hear the echo of their screams in our own voice, dignity they told us to have,

Didn't mention the stacks of playboys they kept beneath their beds.
Just the images, never the women inside the pages.

They always want a girl who's good with her mouth

But they want lips sealed when it come to where she got the practice.
Shattering their images of their impossibly perfect
Barbie girls
Bottle blonde
bubble gum pink and baby blue eyes.

We must be a commodity

Carved up like a good piece of meat and subservient served up for your judgement. Size me up like I haven't memorized the contours and calculated the curvatures; the kind of scrutiny to make your heart weep.

A masterpiece, but Mona Lisa kept all her clothes on, I think? Shallow but we stretch miles in all directions, I keep seeing mirror reflections, in every store window, if manikins can't stand up on their own, how can we?

I have to tell myself we don't have to stand up to stand for something.

And don't demean others with the word *****, because what I keep between my thighs is nothing weak.

Keep trying to maintain my innocence. Shame anything that might just be our liberation:
bare  knees, shoulder blades, and bra straps.

Written in the composition lines of our stretch marks it will tell us what provocative really means, but we haven't found it yet.

So how could you attempt to define what parts of us are too distracting?

I will paint my body honey harlot, summertime scarlet, and streak in the streets. A stark **** liberty.

I wanna be the type of women who is comfortable enough to take her clothes off.

Dance on stage if it means feeding a family, if it means taking money out of the hands of those who don't deserve it, if it means paying for an education I can't breath without.

I want to be the type of woman who opens the temple of her body, for tours if she has to

To resort and regain the kind of dignity they write stories about,
I want to be the type of woman who lays down her life, for her own children when their mouths are empty,

I'll take it like a *****.
No, daddy won't be ashamed because how could he be?
He bred a warrior, a fighter,
and he always said, it's not how big your muscles are, tough is how much you can take and get back up.

**And women always get back up.
Kitana Lapp Nov 2015
Hey stranger!
Hows it going buddy?
Pretty well pal?
I hope so friend.

Hey Friend!
You're pretty great bestie.
Did you know that Dude?
I hope so sugar.

Hey Sugar!
You're really amazing baby.
Did you know that cutie?
I hope so lover.

Hey Lover!
I love you honey.
Do you love me too princess!?
I hope so sweetie pie.

Hey Sweetie Pie!
Why didn't you come home last night pumpkin?
Did you get caught in traffic pookie?
I hope so liar.

Hey Liar!
Did you love him cheater?
Was he worth it you harlet?
I hope so stranger.
Edmond Jun 2013
What is the purpose of life?
“Art” says the artist.
“Love,” says the maiden.
“To inspire” says the writer.
“War” says the soldier.
“Humor” says the clown.
What is the meaning of life?
“Horror,” said the monster.
“***” said the harlet.
“God” said the Christian.
“Beer,” said the drunkard.
“Adventure,” said the explorer.
“The ****,” said the murderer.
“Entertainment,” said the ringmaster.
“To enlighten the mind,” said the philosopher.

“Poetry” says the poet.
Ellie May Nov 2014
you know
I'm not really sure if I'm a ****** or not.
There's nothing there
But I've never been on someones ****
How troubling*

HA I KNEW IT
YOU HARLET


-Argument starts-
*sighs*
John ayres Jun 2018
A taste, a taste but only just so

A little bit of what I forgot long ago

Amber eyes and a vast smile of light

Brunette and  blond all found in black and white

Diamond stud, golden hue

A female touch for only a few

Days and nights in speaking words

Behind a black glass now broken like sherds

Suspicion ruled my heart with fear

To let a woman draw so near

To me her attention wore a flag of red

I thought I knew what a thing to dread

Quickly she acted like a spirit unbound

Chasing a fox through undiscovered ground

By five to the surface my words made to shore

"You harlet, you liar, you thief, you *****!"

"I shall not allow your adore

You display to me at cost."

My doubts were burning just like bitter frost

Her protest was genuine it truly does seem

So silence, no words, her lips have no seam

So a ghost  impression of a sought after smile

I look and I dream for only a while.

— The End —