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Views
Anchored to your sail.
My movements contort to your waves.
A few feet from the edge.
JUMP
Do I let you harbor my splintered limbs?
Your breaths stirring my insecurities.
So I may smooth my figure to fit your frame.
How can I leap into the surface of deaths waters;
when all I remember is the times you took from me.
Even clothed I am left bare under the scrutiny of your unsatisfied stare.
You BELEIVE your suggestions will turn the tides of my callused mind;
but all they do is aid in your ideas for my complexion.
Handing over broken pieces.
Each carved out of my stitched body to fit your puzzle.
Here’s a corset you’ll look lighter.
aye aye captain
Shall I salute you for your gratitude or rather curtsy?
I forget you like girly; or was it curvy?
Here let me dive into your eyes so that I can see the ideal me.
Maybe then I’ll finally be free.
Free?
A phrase I have not learned to pronounce.
From birth, the light was out from the old lighthouse.
My mind could not navigate the sea in society's view.
Set up to force my conformity and succession of predetermined rules.
Boys don't cry; girls remember to hide.
keeping me chained to a mantle over your fireplace.
The essence of the word is unfamiliar.
Even as I bleed out what's left of me that is mine.
I feel exposed as my bones can't hide from your further adjustments.
And as my flesh churns like butter from my wrists.
I scream out for just one wish.
People!
DON’T YOU SEE?
We all are being objectified.
Decades of one image ingrained in our mind.
Portrayed in photos where we compare, compare, COMPARE.
Who’s better you or I?
How can you not see the ways communities
have made us a manikin for the betterment of their view?
Shall I pose for you too?
Position me in place; so I can finally be enough for you.
NO
The day women aren't held down by a man's brand.
And you don’t fear sending your children to school;
guessing if theirs is the one to be shot up next.
Is the day they'll hear us.
There’ll be no more tucking falsities behind a child's ear.
Or added lies of equality within all earth’s roots.
NO
From then on they’ll see us.
The ones working 9 to 5
Just to keep up with the climbing wages.
So your kid's bellies stay full, and they’ll never have to worry.
Is mommy coming home?
Can daddy wake me so I can tell him I love him before
he goes to work extra hours.
Just to see his children smile when they open their lunch each day
to find their favorite snacks.
Even then children worry when the sitter is there more than them.
Clamming for affection their small hands grow years
to finally grasp their mother's hands, and grow in height to tussle dad’s hair.
Praying from dawn till dusk for the day you came home on time.
Just like you promised.
Always wondering when.
I ASK YOU
WHEN will the world see its people?
The ones building up its land and scowering its oceans.
Bringing in new life and even death
when we lie six feet closer to your burning center.
The sky’s tears corrode away our names from our tombstones
and eat away at our bodies till there’s nothing left but dirt.
Shadows of what we once were.
Our souls leave the earth.
As if we hadn’t even existed.
Erased from view.
when?
The better question is how long do we have to wait to see the real you?
Society, it's time to change your view!!
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This poem I wrote for rooted and radical. it is a spoken word piece.