Poems from Emily Rose
She wakes up to a phone call,
she hadn’t realized she was asleep.
There was an accident they tell her.
And she walks in, past all the...
To all the people who have betrayed me.To everyone who calls me Helen of Troy.To Aphrodite, pink lipped and sun kissed,all those hearts...
Do you want to know how the pomegranates tasted?Oh mother dear, would you like to know how they felt?Like freedom.Oh mama, don’t you know?...
At 8 years old I told my dad proudly I was a feminist.
He laughed.
He told me feminists were sluts,
that it was an excuse to act like a...
I am a slut.
I’ve had sex with men before you.
Maybe women.
Maybe more than two people.
You don’t want a number.
You want me to be the...