'women'
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Take the compliment—
Creepy stares at night,
Men in alleyways,
Creepy men in broad daylight,
Take their compliment.
My dear's a deer
what a novel idear
having a deer not a dear
makes me a bit queer
but
what's really quite queer
She's like an angel
kindred and kind
She's like a princess
fancy and fair
She's like a professional
punctual and precise
She is a successful business woman!
Still as the un-awakened beat,
Until the soft stirring of the symphony takes hold,
A soul no longer held captive,
But is free.
Trying to hold back the memories,
But is letting the hidden emotion flow,
September 3rd
Maybe I'd always been broken inside.
Perhaps the image I projected of myself was nothing but a wisp in the wind
An outspoken thought driven by false assumptions of myself.
At age 12 I started my period.
I was told “welcome to womanhood”.
At age 14 I worked at a pizza place.
A 50 year old man came in and asked if he could order me.
No matter how hard I scrub
No matter how much the water burns
The feeling is still there
The heaviness remains
I can’t burn you off.
This world was built by a rash assumption,
One that disregards women’s basic rights.
It is promotion of mass consumption;
It is the spilt blood by too many fights.
Charming she is.
Nifty sits in her eyes
tummbleweed sout in her pom poms
fast and funny
badass funky
and bold as ice cream
sweet strawberry.
A petunia with a heavy punch
She's packin;
I have got to love my husband
He has done so much for me
He took me from my home
And has made some money for me
I have got to love my husband
He gave me the ring
We danced under the stars
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 -
You rip off your clothes and he tears off his. Wait.
Come back you’re going too far.
See my clothes are my inner feelings and things I cannot express.
Why must we be condemned by traditional conservatism?
A woman’s efforts to obtain the equality and respect
similar to a males status seems that of unfamiliarity.
I can still see the blue veins looking at me through the skin in your neck from the hatred that wraps all the way down from your hands to my wrists.
