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She’s A Lot You’re right. I am A LOT. I’m A LOT of a woman. With A LOT of layers. A LOT of personality. A LOT of dreams.
Parents, teach your daughters. Don't let them walk through life Like this broken girl before you. Who did not know her rights to leave, To let that word, No, so bitter on her tongue, pass through her lips.
Who left the tap on? When his building storm spills out,She is made to carry the overflow He refuses to call a plumberAnd there’s only so much flooding this room can take
When I was around sixteen, I became hyper aware of how the boys my age categorized the girls around them.The ones they found attractive were worthy of attention, the others... not so much.
When the gesture of kneeling demands to be heard And the rainbows in the sky earned their own parades, People are excited to check name boxes on paper, While goddesses of the workplace are finally being praised
Phorcys and Ceto, two siblings so close, They birthed three healthy gorgons out of passionate throes. Two of the girls had interests that align,
Do you know how it felt when i was there with you sitting under concrete at the couch on that day. Do you know how it felt when you were saying those things about me and how I look.
It doesn't make it less a war on women just because you think I'm wrong Because you think we’re at fault That this is the story of murders getting what they deserve, but for what
A body belongs to its owner. And to no one else. Uterus to cornea. Let there be no theft. No discussion or judgement. Of what goes in and what comes out. Why was Medusa hated?
They told me not to speak about it. Pretty girls should't have ugly problems. Pretty girls should be grateful. Pretty girls should be poised. So, they molded me into that.
I was twelve when I realized that nobody would love me more than me School, the place where I went to get learn, was where I learned to despise myself.
I hear a woman crying pitfully a man bellowing we are not all like that it's not about you, personally, sir just our individual violations show me one
A useless flower on Valentine’s Day Red to paint her lovers name as tainted as the love he gave Roses have thorns but men have blades He grabbed my wrists and cut my veins
Isn't it odd that I consider myself lucky That no unwanted man has ever put his grubby hands on me? This is not about luck though, or the clothes I've been wearing
It’s different than a period Dripping down your thigh - That’s from me: that’s mine. Not the boy at the party who Let you feel safe -
These are my daughters of a broken heart.
In nineteen and sixty-two, heads that were filled with sharp numbers, formulas, an abundance of calculated self confidence,
I am 12 years old Im sitting in my sixth grade science class During our health unit And giggling with my friends About the “magical” goings-on
When I was 5 years old, my mom said be yourself What she didn’t know back then, who I was got put on a shelf A shelf full of crazy ass dreams
Another black man is killed Another trans kid commits suicide Another woman is sexually harassed Aren't we just statistics In the sadistic game of life?
Dear Womanhood, Thank you for your strength For teaching me to hold my head high For giving me the will to fight Dear Womanhood, You have made me cry
Sleep around player. Don’t be a pussy. Grab her by the pussy. My legs are shut, Crossed, And locked with my chastity belt.
I wake up again, look in the mirror, see my face. God, I gotta cover it up with makeup, not because I want to but because it's considered 'not pretty'
To anyone who may ask,
Dear Mr. Trump, I feel like I’m living in a required reading novel, I’ve been hoping it’s A Wrinkle in Time, but it’s looking like 1984. Please stop goading North Korea, please.
Pinch my windpipe shut. If air doesn't go in, sound doesn't come out.
Monday morning, Sleep deprived and mind a blur. I step onto Main Street. Walking to class, tripping over broken bottles, barbed wire,
Chained to the sea oppressed by its waves and torturous tides to conform or be prepared to die that's the decision the Little Mermaid must make there is more than just her life at stake
Once upon a time When knights in armor shined There waited a young princess Who had many hobbies and interests Yet at the very thought of marriage, she felt herself grow distant
My name is Ariel, and I fought to live on land, so here I am walking today with Eric; my beautiful man. We pass all types of people; all different colors, smiles, and hair,
A woman who speaks her mind without hesitation. A woman who follows her own path and dismisses the disapproving voices. A woman who knows her limits and knows that we are lifelong learners.
Once Upon a time, “You really are a funny girl” Is a statement that has followed me my whole life. When I was young my father asked me why I didn’t like to play with the other kids,
The scene always opens with a girl in rags On the floor Tired and overworked Exhausted and sore. The archetype who deserves so much more.
Once upon a time, In a land obviously far, far away, There was another princess crying, because her mom was taken away. I mean come on Disney,
Stuck in the muck, I am a slut There is nothing I can do but sit and sulk. I can't control minds, I can't control your vibeI can't control your life, but you controlled mine.
They say this is the land of the free, but how can that be when the police are shooting black people like me.
As a white person, I know very little of oppression. I am not shot in the streets for no reason I am not taunted with that confederate flag I am not put in jail for the smallest infraction
America Land of the... Oppressed Minorities, Sexualized children, Free Caucasian Males. Home of the Bigoted, Racist, Perverted,
America is violence. America is a land, “where all men are created equal” But what happens when those men are people of color, Islamic, gay, or female.
Free, free, free They all want to be But what is the cost? We bleed red, white and blue, but crimson runs the thickest and disppears in one swig Death by hunger, death by war, death by the pig
Picturing a beautiful, vibrant young girl crouching Amongst a crowd of bellowing white men, Who won’t put down the argument that doesn’t concern them. This beautiful, vibrant young girl Is the argument.
Equality, it can never exist, I’ve heard people say, “It’s impossible,” “Inequality is in our nature.” Boys will be boys, Bullies will be bullies,
We the people Are the future of this country. We have reached an age Beyond which the future is unclear. So, as much as we can,
Women standing in the crowded downtown, Hold home-made signs in their hands. Many of them read, "Keep your laws off my body". I am one of these women who stand, Although my hands are empty.
"He's just a guy." Just a guy, just being a boy, What's wrong with that? Let boys be boys. Don't be so uptight. He just got drunk. He just did coke. He just took the car-
Being born on US soil means your life has more value Hate special snowflakes, unless it’s Matthew One life is worth more than 80,000 so long as it’s Christian
America the Brave risked everything for the future. America the Strong fought endlessly for our rights. America the Proud flew the flag for all people to see.
The heterosexual white men of our country are blinded with their star-spangled eyes, As the rest of us become motivated and brave. Yes, this may be the “land of the free”,
Dear Daughter, The strange man who you called father was only looking to bruise you at night
I am A woman Belittled Degraded Insignificant The consequences of my Gender I watch white wealthy middle-aged men in stiff suits pick and chose
Lovely that we get to live here. Grateful for the hard work of someone else, For Chance
I truly believe that every human on this Earth is born with a desire to save the world, and somewhere along the way, we realize that this world does not want to be saved.
“Women these days think they Can do whatever they want with their bodies- That is false.”Said my community preacher:
“Women these days think they Can do whatever they want with their bodies- That is false.”Said my community preacher:
“Women these days think they Can do whatever they want with their bodies- That is false.”Said my community preacher:
At age 5 I heard that 'boys will be boys' I learned that boys had more privileges than I because they were luckily born into it At age 10 my mother told me to act proper, say your please and thank you's, don't speak out
supporting choice supporting freedom rights (but are you ever horrified?) choosing girls fifteen sixteen eighteen who deserve their high school college years
walking through hallways of deceased childhoods and wet pillowcases where little boys and girls couldn’t find protection in their own homes their lips cold
When I was born When I was a baby I was the purest I could be in the eyes of society but now that I’m older now that I’ve gained wisdom
On the occasionally sunny day, when it does not rain The Smiler walks out into the blue of today, and bike rides to the city The Smiler is one who, sees with open eyes
"Oh, baby! What I'd like to do to you!" What'd you think that'd make me want to do? I wish I could let out the anger in me, but I know that it's safer to just let it be.
People will say that women today have no freedom But this goes far back For the times have not changed We've only taken steps back. Women no matter their race are always paid less But it seems we're only nice
what are Women’s Rights?
I am not an object. Sexualize, fantasize, All for your pleasure.
Dear class, Welcome to 2016. where we’ve had someone walk on the moon and a black president but still haven’t completely wiped the dust from the word
Dear boys: We have a problem.
When I was a kid,I had this amazing friend,We hung out all the time He and I, We were invincible.
"You see I'm different," She said, "because I'm just like the rest As I walked down the street They yell and they holler Even as I turn and hide my breasts At the bank she said
Anything you can do, I can do betterI'm sick of you telling me I'm dumb WorthlessNothing. I'm sick of you telling me I'm a nagUseless.
I need feminism because our oppression isn’t real because at least we can vote because the wage gap or lack of control over our own goddam bodies cannot be oppression
My fair lady, my fair lady Be a good girl, be a dear Do the cleaning, be the cook All your worth is in how you look
I am… The Lady I am the lady who likes muscle, not malls. I like the feeling of how the power and strength that surges through my mind and body and soul creates harmony amongst my demons
I dream of something that should already be done. I dream of bonds like the red tent. Solidarity between womyn. Because when we were property that our fathers could sell, And our blood was dirty,
I am an activist An advocate for those who don't have as good of a life as I do I acknowledge my privelege I am white, I am not oppressed I am a feminist Intersectionalism is most important
I ache for something more than this. There is this spark in the pit of coals that smolder underneath my skin, that scars my flesh from the inside out, that promises – that swears –
When I was in high school I was very conscious of the way I smiled And talked and laughed and sat And I never knew where to put my hands As I walked down the hallways And I was usually looking down
When the stick in your hand reads "postitive" there is an expectation from the world around you Except instead of instantly feeling maternal joy, you feel the pang of a loss.
Oh, Baby Shining light Dazzling smile Shimmering eyes All sounds too cliché. What is there to say? Such joy Unknown bliss Unexpected peace
Filter, contrast, brighten, enhance
I am angry. Fuck what you've heard. I don't get half the recognition I deserve. There's a blazing fire in my heart. It's been burning there from the very start. You confuse my demeanor for weakness
Hello my name is...
These thighs say thunder.
Who is at faultFor the statisticThat states that every two minutes(That’s one hundred and twenty seconds)
Don't look that way Don't say those things There's another pretty woman Look away from the screens They are supposed to define you
I am FLAWLESS When I fall, I am going to rise I am challenged with many obstacles And yet I am still just fine I refuse to fall under a stereotype Because I am a woman
i heard a child scream once, only once, and it was the sound of Algebra, the Cold War, global warming, but also a mango seed scraping wood to etch grammar rules.
I pant in the darkness whispering a silent prayer Praying to the mighty lord To let me be the one he spares Because when night falls evil fills the night
I’m sorry people who look like me hurt you, I’m sorry people who look like me whipped you, I’m sorry people who look like me took away your freedom, I’m sorry people who look like me brought pain and anguish daily,
Walking home from the grocery store with two heavy bags, one in each arm to balance the weight. A man blocking the sidewalk whisky on his breath and blurry eyes “What have you got there?”
I am a womanI do not wait for my prince I do not stand behind a manI create my own pathsI walk my own journey If they say “shh”Don’t speakI SCREAMSo they can hear my story
A couple of months ago A man murdered two women. Murdered two. Injured six others. But it was okay. It was 100% justifiable by his “troubled past.”
Breasts these two things on my chest that make me targets for jokes and slut shaming
I am tired Tired of waking up at 6 AM to go to a white-washed prison where I am taught Not to learn But to pass a test Tired of hearing my dad loudly groan, "Oh really?!" when he sees a homosexual
The female identity Is not to be confused With the male entity On what they think What they say Or what the media portrays And they? They’re the men and also the women
Listen, I tell the tale Of my pain Of their pain Do you hear them? The collective despair Shared by every woman who is forced To witness their culture stripped Only to be sold
Just a girl. Raised in a patriarchal family. But what is family? Abused at the age of 11, by family, stripped of my innocence.
A girl born with different parts than boys,
What I hate most are rainy afternoons;making me introspective,making me hate.
She had been an eager child
Wooden Door. Silver Knob. Twist torque.
You ask what I want in this world? More than anything else? Well it is what most women would want also, I want there to be a higher likelihood that we die of disease than by the hands of a man,
God's greatest gift of birth in disrespect. A child's life, but now wil never be. The fate of baby, could have been with me or you. Not through love you chose to reject.
The chador draped across her
When I was born, my mother gave me a pearl It was flawless and shiny and beautiful and mine
There are some who believe in the lie
What to change or what to do. Why can't their be anyone in this world uniquely like you? Changing inequality isn't possible but why should it be? I'm glad that we're not all equal.
I tried to be soft; tried to be gentle and delicate, but I’ve got a body full of bones and sharp edges. I’ve got blood; red hot blood, pumping through my veins. I tried to be soft,
I have never met a woman who told me she thinks she's pretty I don't know if it's because they aren't confident or because they've been trained to think they shouldn't be But either way
There was a slot in the fence at the end of my street
Silence. It surrounded me like a thick blanket, a false illusion of security as I walked across Fulton and through the market. My flats tapped the ground, giving off no sound,
At age 16, My momma said to me, You're gonna marry some boy, Who cares about bein' free?
dare i say if nd piss of thousands of women marching no man no cold assassin career attackin life changing paper chasin for me! I would much rather lather lavishishly in the morning aromas of
As a DRC Woman, I believe a woman's mark on the world should not be shallow. As an African American, I want race to be something celebrated and not discriminated against.
Racism Sexism Heterosexism Classism Humans Oppression Privilege Advantage Suppression Humans White Heterosexual Male Perfect
This breathing box, this imprisoning womb, Is my vision’s tomb. Birthing lineal contours, knives that cut ingenuity, Patriarchal forms, notions, popular standards strangle voice within a vast continuity.
We see one another everyday, and your talk is so condescending. Maybe it's because I don't have that look The look of your kind I get it. It's "God's Will" We don't see eye to eye because of our polar views
The fact that I hold the door open for girls does NOT make me a lesbian.
On the Contrary if you look in the Dictionary you'll see that the term you Use has been the subject of great Abuse. One must be Visualized in order to be Objectified not merely faux-Traumitized
i was told as a little girl to stay quiet when i really meant stop. boys only tug on girls’ hair when they really mean she’s pretty. i was told as a little girl to never scream at the shadows.
She snaps the heels off her stilettosThat never gave her enough stature.To cease treading lightly alongside theHenry Tudors and Pablo PicassosDue to two X's that cannot be overlooked
Shame that I must have Because it is my own fault For dressing like that (a haiku about rape culture and the shame a woman feels after being raped)
We are but black and white The letters that we write. The colors leeching from our pens destroy worlds and breathe sins.
I am a someone and not a something. I am derived from irreplaceable queens. I hear the war cries in my heart ring and when I bust through walls I hear them joyfully sing.
Your vibe I feel inside deep through my eyes, suprise, I rise, the soul flies like a magic carpet ride, all the lies dies, as a woman like you becomes wise. For you special, beautiful like a rose petal, tender to
WearingHijabs and hoodies could get you killedQuicker than overdosing on prescription pills
I had zits. I have zits. We all do, it just comes with being a teenager. And just like zits, that awful “I’m not beautiful” feeling also comes with being a teenager.
My Sunshine, my breath My Flutters, my walkings My Idols, my rage My Rippled water My Static dreams My Alive world My Language
i was born into a world of glitter and pink barbie dolls and baby dolls and men who would call you pet names without bothering to raise their line of vision
At the start, I felt them place the chains upon me. Decisions, ideas, thoughts they decided for me, Pushed so hard I believed they were my own, Yet they were so different from the writing on my heart.
It could be anything, a man strapped neck-high in bombs, Sunni sweat, dust and black curled chest hair a grandmother with fresh mandarin oranges from the market,
The implications of your strength confuse My emotions and leave me perplexéd; Do I find safety in your able arms, Or do I fear the strength sup’rior to mine? The way you take control is my excuse
To be ownéd by you is my dark wish, Sweet man who has power to bid me his will, And protect me from those who’d demolish My heart and send my world into a hell. I do not care what the radicals say,
Let's be honest Truthfully, who are we? How can we keep stepping? Stepping towards our future one head at a time What is the meaning of life? A meaning that could be meaningful or less
Your voice Is a weapon Sharper than any knife More truthful than any gun
As I looked around me I knew I was safe But then Mommy brought me to a different place. With people my size and a lady like Mom I began to assimilate into the mob. They gave me a stick and stiff napkin
Today I take a stand, I take an oath I make a promise, to be the best woman that I can, dignified, untainted, and honest, I will be what God defines me as, instead of a product of my past, so I hold fast to what God says about me, forgetting what
Innocent. Such a connotation, as if there is only innocent and guilty. Guilty of what? Of love? Of curiosity? Of experience? Does it matter that I have been loved before you?
I could blend in. In the background. Up against the wall Slip myself in between the paper and the plaster Beside the tile lining the bottom of the wall next to the cabinet And smile.
Yes, he lost the election But the scary part is apparently 47 percent of my fellow Hoosiers think it's cool to say God wanted you raped and vote for him anyway, which makes me think
Woman reigns on her throne. She decides your fate with the third knuckle of her right index finger. You kneel before her as she uncrosses her thighs to stand. Delilah, with your head in her lap
When I was thirteen, I had my first f***. Sex has this positive connotation Of being greatly enjoyable by both participants The guy’s feeling fly, girl’s feeling high And for this feeling,
You play a part While I fall apart Under the weather, now... Under the weather, now... And I beg you please for some room just to breathe under the weather now... under the weather now...
how dare boys tell my gender that sexism doesn't exist they say it so flippantly but they don't know how could they know?
She was afraid Of words they said and thoughts they would have She felt unsafe For their actions often go excused In a world where victims take the blame
America. Land of the free. A land where you can get married based on the gender you were born with, but not based on who you fall in love with. America. Land of the free.
I speak Pythagorean, Platonic, stars, and shapes, imparting my knowledge to others. They love it, and tell me that I am Minerva, incarnate highest, uppermost, supreme.
Girls in lace dresses you are precious objects. Your blossom bursts open to soak up the sun. You are gazed upon as your fruit hangs heavy. You are ripe for the picking turned into a commodity.
In the mind of my mother dishes are cleaned and neatly stacked all on her account. His dress shirts are washed and neatly pressed in great, abundant amounts. In the mind of me
Heaven's Fall You're driving home, darkness close behind, this sleazy solace so painfully unkind.
What is it I do, as a true blue Woman? I fight for justice so free, for love, for me- Me and mine, and you'll find that my kind, though we may bind each other, one another, our OWN brother
My spirit was invaded today, my pride was conquered The strongest, surest part of me crumbled to bits before him And I could only back down, Shy away, Stare blankly like the thoughtless, emotionless being,
when I was in high school learning to take the tenets of journalism like the sacraments of Christ we learned a wealth of rules; some matter more than others but I must have missed the day
how odd, to be a woman and a girl to wear the dresses but concern about cleavage more than meets the eye: because. and so we waddle for the men – twisting straps, my petticoat drawbridge
Who are we? We, who razed down walls that kept us hidden, Spoke firm words that altered the face of the nation, We who stood up for equality in an unfair society. We are women.
Blatant like a beat Driven with strong emotions Distant in the night
It is August of 2012 and I walk through your memories, a museum. My feet pace the floor where yours once did, a battleground. I gaze at your portrait and into your eyes, silent. In the election of 2016 I will vote.
Blindfolded I am led to the asphalt And blindfolded I stand Hoping these men Will pave the way
Don't take it away don't let us regress we've pushed that boulder up the mountain and now it's threatening to roll right back down to crush us to smother freedom.
I pity a docile and feeble repartee. Opaque words cut down by characteristic pride Though I know the fault lies with me
Look, boy, I'm talking to you: You who love the curve of my hip like a child You who find solace when I'm meek-mannered and mild You who find sweetness in my summer fleetness
I can't sing but the way you make my heart feel is wonderful and I cant dance but the way you make my body feel is beautiful but you can't run your hands through my hair with your fingers