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"rohypnol" poems
after Sanam Sheriff. In this dream, the statistic isn’t 1 in 3 because there is no statistic. There is no **** whistle swaying from our necks. No Rohypnol swimming in our drinks. There is no need for colour-changing nail polish to tell us that the stranger we haven’t seen or the friend that we have is trying to take advantage of us in the alley behind the club. Or our cars in the grocery store parking lot. Or our bedrooms as our mothers think they have just gone to the bathroom. In this dream, we have no need to invent a word such as **** No need to be afraid of who’s in the dark. No need to be afraid for our daughters. No need to panic every time a man raises his voice. Every time a man raises his hand. Every time a man raises his belt buckle. In this dream, there is no more catcall, no ass-grab, no staring so hard it feels like his eyes have already touched us in places we never consented to. In this dream, consent is part of the foreplay. In this dream, we do ask for it. In this dream, they don’t touch us otherwise.
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Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 4:48 PM UTC
Consent.
harbour abyss shallow dwell our shotgun cells open wide tastes like magnesium swallow now magnesium magnesium fall down you barrow folds      why are all the snails out?                                  you haven't heard?     it's been forty weeks of rain     it's been forty years of rain       crush them if you see them-        don't you know we're in a bubble economy? the churches crumble cats lie bored in parking lots surrounded by nothing pat pat the summer heat dye your bones in rohypnol veils empty into cartridges shoot up sky burial float the concentric lace of vultures     do you ever pantomime being hurt,                               just to hide your hurting?        hahahahaa,                                         no this ******* heat   pavement swells dig up the dirt relay the dirt reseal over                                   spit your teeth tap tap                                           from the mountaintop                                                     into the ocean spend the days watching     kids stamp on the ants and then cry as they learn what it is to know death mothers stare on with tired eyes         the summer heat           the summer heat               who took all the rain?   -sosososo, there's this game, this game, you see   you make a jigsaw but replace every odd or so tile, with an image of your own design after a few tries, the whole thing becomes entirely incomprehensible, but at least it's yours
0
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 7:22 PM UTC
karaoke
harbour abyss shallow dwell our shotgun cells open wide tastes like magnesium swallow now magnesium magnesium fall down you barrow folds      why are all the snails out?                                  you haven't heard?     it's been forty weeks of rain     it's been forty years of rain       crush them if you see them-        don't you know we're in a bubble economy? the churches crumble cats lie bored in parking lots surrounded by nothing pat pat the summer heat dye your bones in rohypnol veils empty into cartridges shoot up sky burial float the concentric lace of vultures     do you ever pantomime being hurt,                               just to hide your hurting?        hahahahaa,                                         no this ******* heat   pavement swells dig up the dirt relay the dirt reseal over                                   spit your teeth tap tap                                           from the mountaintop                                                     into the ocean spend the days watching     kids stamp on the ants and then cry as they learn what it is to know death mothers stare on with tired eyes         the summer heat           the summer heat               who took all the rain?   -sosososo, there's this game, this game, you see   you make a jigsaw but replace every odd or so tile, with an image of your own design after a few tries, the whole thing becomes entirely incomprehensible, but at least it's yours
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53
"I hate you more when I'm drunk" you said     Everything about me makes you angry I still sit on my hands and try not to say anything unless spoken too "No one else will deal with you, **** stop crying, I don't want people seeing my woman with tear stains."     So I wouldn't cry in front of you anymore      Each night I'd fall asleep helpless to my meal sized portion of pills Anti-anxiety, antidepressant, sedative, pain killer, sleeping aid "You're just like your Mother, all messed up" I'm so ******* tolerant and you're so ******* disturbed At least my Mother, didn't **** my married Father for his money Sorry I just told everyone that "Why can't you be more like... Claire? Caitlin? Maia? Anna?" I don't want to be like them but if I was, you'd probably actually love me or at least stop smacking me hard enough to make my jaw ache for hours Three days before you put me in the hospital,       by the way I tested positive for Rohypnol You gave me a ring, solid gold and diamonds that night you weren't worried about my stomach being pumped but,      "She better be wearing that ring, better not lose it in the hospital" I flushed your $15,000 guilt gift down a hospital toilet.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
Starring Role .2
peek a boo what do you see? a man a woman corruption vulnerability peek a boo what do you see? a knife rohypnol no escape don't tell a soul peek a boo what do you see? a man a woman conviction - none too bad that you couldn't run peek a boo what do you see? a woman a man not a dream his favourite crime scene
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Sep 18, 2021
Sep 18, 2021 at 3:32 AM UTC
peek a boo
He is immune to things that could shake him for years and years like the rohypnol, cotton bleach, light beam more tears and tears been shed upon the Christ's myth and nothing could indulge in more width. He can never lie in the bunk throughout the summer, forever a thousand of ships have allegedly sunk into the oblivion, since we gather in the acrimonious way in withholding the frivolous conviction that we refused. He missed thousands of roses, lilies, daisies He stepped on it, he couldn't resist when they arrived to announce the capture from the harem he departed just to leave a terrifying mark all over them. He dragged his soul through the abandoned street street of hope and lie that forget to greet tend to set ablaze any shape of territory Inferno's fault is that it never told us the whole story. He is now dancing alone on the sacred mountain savoring the peace that he thought he could never obtain horrendous mistake when they set him apart to be blamed even Abraham made up something to take everyone's sight off the frame. They shirk their responsibilities resulting in the furor he wished that he can never be bothered anymore for John, Donald, Henry are passersby in waiting and the Sun now, seems to be brighter and deafening.
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Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 3:36 AM UTC
Ballad of a Wandering Soul