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julianna May 2023
as a child,
i didn't know
i was lonely
but now,
as a woman
sitting in a
quiet room,
i am reminded of
all the monsters
my mind created
to distract me
when i was
all alone
Mark Wanless May 2023
beautiful woman
revolver pick up truck beer
on ice a true sight
Has shame dried
Cranberry bogs
On cotton
Have hormones peaked
Or have the eggs spoiled,
Turned rotten
Is there more to a woman
Than her ****** functions
Or will she do as she's told
And remain in her place
On the bottom
MARS Apr 2023
On a busy day,
A floor unkept.
“What’s this woman doing?”
Said Mr. Baker Brett.

With no delay came she,
Hair running below her knees,
Cleant the place
And served him his morning tea.

The innocent kid
Stood in the aisle
With a face devoid of smiles
And fiery eyes.

The struggles of this woman,
He dare not say!
He made a fist.
When the clock struck eight,

He picked up his satchel
And looked at his sister play.
She received no formal education
And was to stay that way.

The struggles that she may face,
He dare not say!
He held his anger in,
And walked away.

Time will pass and
His beard will go grey.
To his curious daughter,
What will he say?

That she ought not
To get educated?
To be slave to an unknown man?
He contemplated.

Wild wild, rage. He must
Burst out today.
He shook off the bad dream
And so will they.
This poem is set in the long nineteenth century. An innocent boy, born in a male-chauvinistic society, feels the inequality around him. A child’s empathy towards women is dumbed by society when he turns into a man. The child in the poem wishes to change this scenario. He has high hopes that he will initiate change in the society and that the society will change.
ratgirl Apr 2023
Evil, sick and twisted boys.
If you like me, if you love me,
Then why do you want to hurt me?

Is my pain release for you?
Can you only feel the ecstasy of intimacy
With your hands so forceful on my neck,
Or with teeth deep in my flesh,
Until I'm sure I'm ripped apart.

Hold my hands behind my back,
Keep them tight above my head
So I won't push away when it hurts.
I'm someone's daughter,
I'm taking it like a good little ****.

Can you tell that I like it?
I worked really ******* it all for you!
And when you touch me so harshly,
The parts of me you like so fondly
Will never again feel quite right for me.

Is it okay to mutilate me?
Must I sacrifice such sacred parts,
And call sweet blessed love a surrender
Of everything that makes me sweet,
Of what's required to be complete.

I write these words on my jean pocket
And carry them around like an omen,
Boy's wont want to touch me then.
Mark Wanless Apr 2023
three hundred pound woman
screaming my children are starving
saw it and just cried
hami Apr 2023
and there she is,
known as cruel wicked for speaking.

her hair was tied,
her neck was strangled,
her eyes were poked,
her lips were stapled,
her arms were rotated,
her feet were collected,
and she were dressed into something new.

but she did not like it all,
and broke the strings above her.
they called her a demon,
setted her into fire,
darted her heart with spears,
dragger her into venous snakes,
tangled her with ruling hurricane,
just to let her meet their god, lucifer.

yet she is still there standing,
hoping until her last breath—
after all, she is the woman of god
who died from people she devoted for.

"war may be over— but inhumanity remains" ; @wordsbyhami
Maria Mitea Mar 2023
and  i pretended to be the air, warm wind gently moving behind his ears,
ruffling his hair, touching his eyelids,
smoothly entering his chest, making him believe that he was breathing,  and i again
pretended to be a flower, a beautiful flower,  calmly waiting,
alluring him with my gaze as you would lure  a bee, or a bird when it flies and hums, and sings, ***** its wings and  looks for its place in the palm,
then he asked me again: - and yet, what is it like to be a woman? and
i  pretended it was raining
and raining
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2023
undefined spine
so close, in lordosis

will gravity win tonight?

swayback
around a fountain

she's curving toward
rebirthing cisterns
about the recesses
of her question mark

(?)

privately electrified
in beautiful confusion
the brain is lost

innately she takes
another drink from my hands
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