womanhood

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What is Womanhood? Can it be taught to you or does it have to be a learning experience? Why do they think that I want to be a woman?
This girl This girl did not grow up alone She lived in a home With 5 girls and one boy And a mom and dad who was like a stone  This girl This girl has a heartA heart that beats for music and fashion An everlasting passion that she thought could ne
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Helvetica Neue'} “so, when should we have sex?” her lips were cherry pink and quivering with insecure verve. (did she have braces yet?)
Period. Not the kind present at the end of a sentence, not the kind that boldly sends a message.   But the secret kind.
I prowl the internet late at night and everyone tells me it’s terrible for sleep but I do it anyway. I learn a lot from the late-night internet and
revised from Daddy's Little Girl   I remember the little girl she used to be in her bright tutus and soft-footed slippers.
She walks in the sun reflecting the lightA shimmering moon illuminating the nightShe gives force to the wind but calms stormy seasBirthing dreams and nurturing trees
I am an angry woman.    No, I don't have picket signs propped up in my garage or a coarse voice, from screaming. I've never marched down a street with proud sisters,
like clockwork  it struck when i was sixteen  i thought i would be safe   no one should have what i have down there    find the common denominator   one second plus two seconds
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
1. The waves are thick with seaweed, soft and baubled with thread-like strands. The waves are green and glassy, tipped with bubbles of smooth white foam. The waves are roaring against the shore, powerful, pulling in and pulling back.
I am in the throes  of the time of a young life when all that matters is which college I will attend.  I always say I am drawn to one.  I wish it was for the pretty
Dear Miss Melanin,  I love your skin It's so beautiful that everyone wants to be like you  You come in different shades Some light and some dark Don't forget about the alluring brown.
I am often expected to write for someone A loved one A best friend The black race girls I can’t say yes, or no to any of these.
These are my daughters of a broken heart.  
Her voice is soft like a songbird's first "good morning", vibrato's as words pour into her leather bound fortress, becomes a warrior, a missionary - maybe a bit of both;   a vortex of youth, passion, possibilities -
As I play with your tiny toes and teeny hands, I can’t help but think of the future at hand.   These little toes will soon walk, In lands where all kinds of people talk.  
Press against my begging blossom,  Reaching for  Thy tender kiss.  As I quiver beneath your bosom, Fill my womanhood With bliss. For I trust you with such bounty, Take away 
Dear womanhood,you've been a vague stranger nearly all my life,you've set unrealistic boundaries, you've made me feel lesser, you've set me apart from all the other girls.
Look at your face and your hair's small curls you may not be a stick, but you have the whole world in your hands, between your shoulders, and even in your thighs.
Cherry-red lips Stretched hips Hormones on full throttle Lusting Craving Begging For attention
Dear motherland When can I come home? I sleep On a bed A hundred wars Away from you. The air is cold
i like women’s bodies our stomachs expand with too much diet. our breasts swell with firmness and stability
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your fears.  Do what you want as long as the witch doesn't hear.   How did the witch feel when she found that you were with child? A baby with a baby
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your fears.  Do what you want as long as the witch doesn't hear.   How did the witch feel when she found that you were with child? A baby with a baby
Whatever your beliefs. Atoms colliding or Adam and Eve. We should thank the architect for the greatest design. Chemistry, biological or divine. Believe what you will, nobody can deny.
A rose-hipped girl with legs closed tight Sits staunching an ochre river. She’s sure of a weeping snake with teeth Red sunk into her belly.
We slaughter time with gentle conversation
What's between my legs offends you I can see it in your fear the way you shut us out just proves you can't face the truth within. We have the Universe inside us you see it bleeding out
Words slapped me in the face With their crimson fury Without hesitation I let them envelop me Watering myself in a shower of emotion
I’m a femme fatalemy father taught me wellLike Mata Hari my charms arefor my victims to dispelLike the mistress Laura Bellthe Queen of London Whoredomone day I may find the Lord but
-I went through a season of roaming. appeared as a tornado in the sand Rotating while in orbit, a cycle that I could not break without the mighty strength of God to stabilize me.
Before I take my last breath Look into my eyes Mirror my reflection Taste the kiss of my smile Know I have no reason to live
When my mother first gave me black eyeliner It had glitter encased within don't make yourself look like a whore I was told with all the sincerity one could muster on Christmas morn
My mom and my dad were looking at each other. I knew it had to be serious. Dad always blinked a lot when he was scared or nervous. He also tapped his foot on the floor.   He looked older when he didn’t smile.
  Woman Wrapped in Self-Confidence   I am a woman wrapped in self-confidence A crown of wisdom placed upon my brow A heart of wonder laced with tenderness Tall I stand against all resistance.  
  Flawless is born in my thighs that stretch wide and thick 
We are not Women. We Are not Ladies. If the only thing that makes up adults is our age, then we are adults. But we are not Grown Up. We are Girls. And we wont be made Women by Physical Coming of Age.
If I don't hold you down who will What if I don't hold your hand when you're ready to quit
There’re some things you’ll never understand like the reason your spine ch
  I doubt it’s ever crossed your mind that I am not putting on a mask in the morning, but I am not hiding behind my mascara tube. I am putting on my armor.    Feminine is not soft. 
Jesus looks like me Her face is brown Her neck is long She cranes her head Over the world She watched behind Red robes. Her curly hair Stands up high It sings praises
Yena Balekyani                                                                                                        about 618 words Urbandale, IA515-822-7148 balekyay@uni.edu
Oh the Comfort The peace The joy And the love That flows From you to me Dear Mother You give me attention That delivers affection Direction And understanding to me
Booty shorts. That’s what he brought back for me. After telling him repeatedly, just how unflattering they were to a woman's body He brings me booty shorts. KEY WEST written nice and tight
A young girl steps down— vanity becomes so small inside of herself.   A woman steps out of the shallow pool of pride and lets herself love.   Despite injustice
My great grandmother could not read and her daughter could not write. My mother passed me the pen and told me to fly. When I write, I unlock the diaries belonging to the hearts of all my mothers.
Looking down: Ten tilting toes And two stories. Trimmed lawn. Looking up: Some blue solid sheet above the roofs, Cut by a white flash, And I slight my eyes. My hands stick to the wooden strips
I thought women had silver dollar nipples not ones that look like balls of scrunched up panty-hose.
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