assault

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I wish you would just hit me But you got inside my bones and split me from the inside. I hate that I’m that girl who writes poetry about a boy to feel human again. But you’re not a boy,
I remember the apathy. The uncoupling of my mind from my body, looking out the window as the Toyotas and Fords bombinated by in the dark. The top heavy tour bus rocked gently,
How could i have been assaulted again? I must have asked for it I was leading him on anyway
Then   he took the respect she had for Herself  and the wonders from the earth around Her he took her her kindness  and what seemed, the air from Her lungs he took Her curiousity 
There are so many things I find I'm forced to remember. Sloppy drawings of sleepy Buddha in the back of a rotting notebook. Cake crossing my eager ears, as I jam my hip beneath the stair-rail,
You don't scare me, mister. The way you threw me to the floor. Ran me through your fingers, Like sand and broken pieces of myself.  
Don’t wanna waste my life, writing all these love songs…. Refuse to be wasting away, smattered on this page, Like a salesman the thoughts of you won't go away,  
I watched as my entire soul crossed a threshold. Time slowed and I saw his face. It was him. They said I’d never see him again,
She painted her face the way she painted her body, To cover the pain and tears he left behind.   ~awatr
I am vast and I am blue and more than you can see I am loud and I will be heard by everyone So with this crash I say -No- I decree That I am my own being and I cannot be undone
I hate the way she looks; But I want to look just like her. Her olive skin and dark hair, Her hips that curve wider and wider. But that’s her not me. She’s fake but I’m not good enough either.  
With golden locks of lace I waltz around this town This is no modern palace This is my old home town   The people pass me by And whisper to themselves Am I the man that used to cry
Your eyes turn into dark pools of anger Bold black eyes seeping into my soul Dissatisfied with my answer, no.  Each time I call out, they get more coarse.  Your arms cross your chest, I cross my legs.
I rare met a man with a badge and a gun, Who deserved to wear it proudly or even at all, How dare such a man, act with crass and make puns, When he claims to protect and serve but laughs when you fall,
Seventeen in English class My ex-boyfriend has assaulted me in the future And my friend eats pills that make him see red In a metaphorical sense if you didn’t understand   I’m writing poetry for my teacher
She needed someone to lead her out  of the fire but instead she got folks who just wanted to lock up the arsonist. Was grabbing the perpetrator in a timely fashion more agreeable than saving his victims?
Teeth gnashing, ripping, and tearing through your body - ripped apart from inside out. An internal violent assault - this is what Cancer's about. Carrying with it, anger and cruelty-
To the one who took my life from me:   The way my nightmares used to speak I thought it would be in screams and in shouts.
bend the bruises mend the stains, go ahead and break the chains, wait outside the wrong track door, hear the voices, not good for anymore.   break the bones, like all souls show,
I tried to be strong But strong is not strong, And crying is not wrong If it happened again I would be weak I would not lie down and take it. I would cry and weep and make it impossible  for you
Dear boy, You're not a man. A man does not hurt women A man does not manipulate A man does not use social media platforms to harrass an individual A man does not make me say #MeToo A man loves women
Dear the boy who took advantage of my love:  
Young girl, 13 You just know you’re playing your cards right Your parents don’t know That you snuck out last night Swore you were just protecting your friend
i. he carved his name into my bones with claws under which my flesh festered. no matter how long i leave my bones to rot,
Do you remember me?
When I was 10, While brushing my teeth I noticed my gums bleeding- And my mother told me That it was just bad blood leaving the body. That I’m doing such a good job, At respecting myself.
Growing up as a young girl with yellow-toned skin, It was hard for me to find role models I could relate to. Luckily for me, I stumbled upon Bruce Lee.
Hard working father, scraping by, stares at the photo he keeps in his box Soon as it hits 5, he’s off the clock
Little Red made this trip as early as twelve. Her baggy hood wasn't enough to cover up from the wolves The feeling of shame, arising, the first time they noticed that Little Red wasn't looking too Little... anymore.
Still and silent I float in the deep blue, the ocean is my master and I its slave.   Heels, check. Face, check. Glasses – better leave those here – check.
There are minimal downsides to being a Poet, But one of the few is that it's difficult to simultaneously be One As well as the girl you want me to be.   It's difficult becuase we'll be in English class,
You called to ask me how I was today Though the last time we talked I was breaking your heart.  You were yelling and you were crying and you said I was to blame. 
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?”
Here I stand, in my apartment, where you broke me, you took the old me, and molded me into something new. someone I hardly recognize,  who is that girl in the mirror?
There are 77,600,000 girls around the world who do not attend school.   Not 77,600,000 children or adults or people all put together.
Nearly crumbling on the edge of sanity — tip-toed, teetering and tottering I am ready to collapse at any given moment, at any given second. I am fairly certain of my inadequate understanding of this world.
A shiver creeps across the spine As if lifeless hands were playing it like a grand piano. Words are spoken in the hushed tone of a eulogy Dripping off of chapped lips like a venom-spitting snake.
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