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There. I said it.
And guess what?
NO means NO.
I don't care if I'm wearing short shorts
or if my dress is up to my scrawny knees.
NO means NO.
I don't care if I'm passed out on the couch
after a long night out or a long day at work.
NO means NO.
I'm NOT asking for it not now, not ever.
I'm not trying to be mean or rude to you,
I'm simply just not ready - PLEASE respect that.
1 in 4 women are raped daily and I want to know something...
Why do we teach girls how to avoid getting raped?
Why do we not tell boys and men that no means no?
Why is masculinity defined as dominance and superiority?
Why is femininity define as submissiveness and inferiority?
Our society teaches us that men have the right to take what they want
and dispose that of which they no longer have use for.
Our society teaches us that men should keep walking and mind their own business
when another man is abusing a woman - in other words, to support bystanders.
You keep walking... It's none of your concern!
You keep wa
10 things I've learned about life so fari.
people will come into your life
and they always have the chance
just as freely - you should try
to not stop them if they do decide
to leave your life;
new ones will take their place.
don't dwell on past relationships;
the sooner you accept that they're gone,
the better you'll feel and the more focused
you can be to find someone even better.
lying - don't do it.
which leads us to...
don't run from your mistakes,
but rather confront them and
recognize them for what they
truly are - lessons.
unless it is very necessary
and unavoidable, don't start
your higher education at a university;
for the same credits, you could pay
over $15000 less and go to a
(besides, you could change your major
over and over and over, and feel less guilty).
parents are (typically) trying their best
and they only want the very best for you;
trust that and appreciate it.
don't take anything negative said to you
personally - it might hurt for a bit,
it's only love"Maybe you're just scared
because for once in your life,
someone actually wants
to be with you."
when i'm with you,
i don't have to hide
or my real self;
you see through me
and still love me
for who i am.
late nights when i
can't sleep, i look
out to the stars and
remember that you see
them too, only from
you're always there.
miles apart but our
hearts beat as one;
such a new feeling,
to love and be loved
fully and truly -
you're my sunshine
and i'm your shooting star.
butterflies fill my
stomach as june approaches
and our first in person
meet draws near;
the future seems dark
without you so
please hold my hand.
think about it:
you were a gleek
and i was a nerd,
yet our destinies
here's to a hopeful
Be a BelieverTo love another woman is to feel her smooth skin against your own, knowing that she can find your erogenous zones with the tips of her soft fingers.
To love another woman is to know the differences of each emotion you portray or attempt to hide, to know that tears could either represent utter sadness or pure anger.
To love another woman is to kiss her lips with every ounce of passion and feel the truth in the words "I love you" spill evenly from her mouth into yours.
She will love you with every little piece of her once-broken-heart that once believed that love was a myth, an intangible idea; she won't want anyone to hurt the one that makes her fly to the highest of clouds and offers her a slow dance among them.
She will be there, by your side at all times, to save you from the dark times that might arise - just like you saved her from throwing her life away that one cold January night;
she won't let her soul mate drown in the trenches of temporary bad times because of one person (who
one, not the otheri.
labels are for
items, not humans;
from using them.
the price and
quality of our
depend on our weight.
don't throw us away
after your use,
recycle - that way,
we'll continue to
and be helpful to you.
magpies singingdear mother and father,
i'm a precious magpie who wants to be let out of my cage and allowed to fly free in the outside world. yes, i understand that as long as i'm under your roof, i have to abide to your rules; i get that, i really truly do.
let me tell you something: as a magpie, i would like to be let out of my cage occasionally to fly around and explore; you need to develop trust in me, knowing that each time you let me out, i will always come back home.
i know that i might not be the best daughter... we've already discussed that plenty of times before... but please, you can't take things too personally anymore. i'm almost 20-years-old and i have to learn to stand up for myself, even if it means against you two. i am learning to talk to you calmly and not squawk at you when i'm wrong or when i get defensive.
each time that you hold me back for standing up to my own beliefs and my own thoughts, you rip off a single feather. it hurts more than you think! i don't always want to be tr
old chainsbitter tears drenched
the strong metal that
chained her love to him,
turning fake silver into
a jealous and frustrated
diversitywe're all unique flowers
with different roots and soil;
don't judge what
you don't understand.
.my mother said it's rude
to write in red, i said well
please tell that to my skin
and please, take a look at this
rose on my wrist, at the eight
pints that flow through the stem
(can't drag myself out of my body, so i won't drag myself out of bed)
not so picture perfect.when i was seventeen,
the world told me that it was at my feet,
& patiently waited for me to step foot in it
so it could take me as its own.
he told me that the world would
eat me alive
but have faith, he said,
get down on your knees & pray.
i guess god must have low self-esteem.
eighteen taught me
that love couldn't conquer all,
despite the faith it demanded
trust was wearing thin,
just like his excuses,
& i didn't know my role
in a world made for those
who knew their place.
when i was nineteen,
the future escaped me
& the present was a gift
that i did not ask for.
i was drained, exhausted,
& secluded in a cave
constructed from the remains of myself
that i salvaged from the world.
it was no wonder i was empty.
time was running out.
the book i was blindly writing
made little sense, & i was reading
braille on the skin of others.
the sand that weighed me down
shifted, until the glass cracked.
i guess time ran out.
twenty-one was rebirth,
long as it's
on his terms
and i've a
if i just play
by the rules
carry me to the countryside i. when i was a little girl,
i wanted to die on the countryside
my lighthouse eyes straight ahead
and my head laid against the cornfields
to breathe in the daylight and breathe out the mo(u)rn
my mama said that would be
a very long time from now
(i'm sorry to disappoint you, mama)
ii. my house was whisked away to oz
when i fell asleep beneath the cherry-red poppies
i ran and fell down the rabbit hole on the way back
my hair entangled with the willow trees
autumn leaves stuck to my rain boots
as my jacket stuck to close to my skin
and i felt human for the first time in ages
(i'm not a child anymore)
iii. asleep during midsummer
i am sunbright and innocent
(someday, my sweetheart)
iv. little miss sunshine,
i miss your bird sing-song voice
and your bottle-it-up laughter
your macaroni hair and
your sweet acorn eyes
that cheshire cat smile
but most of all, i miss
Dear LostDear Lost,
Hello. I've likely not met you in reality before, but
I can assure you that we have more than a few
things in common. Maybe you like to sleep with the
window open. Maybe you like to carry a wallet in
your side pocket instead of the back. Or maybe
you walk down the stairs with your feet poised to
either side instead of straight, rigid motions. There's
more, I'm sure of it.
But we both are our own person. It's plausible to say
there's much more which keeps us distinct than loop
us together. And I'm fine with that. Maybe you single-
knot your shoelaces while I double-knot mine, or you
find a cup of tea much more enjoyable when you're
alone, with a good book in hand. Or maybe you think
the stars are just wispy balls of gas, whereas I find a
bubble of solace whenever I see the hearty light.
I think I can trust you with a secret. My grandmother
passed away a while back, and I can't remember e
-death knocks on your
door with a crooked little grin
and tells you that he'd like
his tea with two sugars, please,
and that you'd better start packing;
but only bring your valuables
because he's got no room in his hearse
this isn't something i can
sweat or starve out of me,
i'll have to write and it will
see i've often thought about
placing my head in the pestle
and mortar, i wonder if i could
grind out the hell inside, become
a red pulp on the worktop, and
even the oven keeps tutting at me,
it's so easy, just open the door
stick your hand in, feel his forked
tongue on your palm,
orange lover, you
and it's true
that the dead are never really
silent, they grunt and they groan
in their damp soil sheets,
toss and turn over
(fill the bath with water, and just drop me in it)
what to do when he doesn't say it backa)
you will give all of yourself to a boy who won't know you at all.
he will recycle your parts, make you stationary, bind you into
paper that he will gift back so you can write poetry about him.
you, too, say i love you quickly.
when he doesn't say it back, evaporate.
he will kiss you in places you didn't know existed.
until him, you were a peasant in your body's palace.
he crowned you princess, broke the lock of your castle's gates.
when he doesn't say it back, load your cannons.
you are a fountain pen.
look him in the eye when you write him letters on your skin.
when he asks to read them, surrender.
you have always been this way: too eager
to make wildflowers bloom inside of him.
when he doesn't say it back, trim the stems.
when he tells you that your eyes remind him of tree bark,
show him that your gaze is sturdier than nature's limbs.
without breaking eye contact, slowly back him into a wall.
when he expresses discomfort,
ask if he knows what choking is like.
Keep in Touch!
A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More