Rebel Poetry
- Reads 141
- Votes 14
- Parts 11
There is pain in this world, especially when you are a woman, lesbian, and radical feminist. When you are hiding in plain site, in the middle of a proper Christian church situated in a small, conservative town, there are masks you have to wear that scald your skin. These are my poems on the subject. They tell my struggles, and I hope other girls like me can find themselves in these words.
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#106
misogyny
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O' I take Emotion
I posted these poems in the order I wrote them, thus the first, nor the last is the best. I really hope these poems make you think, and here's a sample I take a look around and I see not faces but places places were faces are hid hid behind the women wear make-up to fulfill desires of their worth and to fulfill mens' distorted and impure lust the men wear masks of flesh to fulfill their rankings and to fulfill womens' false hopes and distorted dreams oh how the world would look without these masks yet this a dream forever unfilled and placed in hopeless utopian minds yet if one by one as we grew we would begin to realize make-up is mistake that we try to make up for with more of it yet if one by one as we grew we would begin to realize masks of flesh is a slash upon our own veins and only digs the hole deeper oh how we perpetuate what we hate most oh how we elevate what we loathe most take off the mask, the unbreakable mask of unbreaking wash off the waterproof make-up, designed to make-up take of the mask, and see the face see a face see your face and see how much you hate it and how much purer, prettier, and how much manlier, magnificent, it is compared to slime you coat your face with compared to lies you smear your face with yet how much better how much safer it is than the safety of the crowd the crowd of the masquerade take it off and take your pride and break it take your hate and burn it hotter and live free-er and with your hate pour it into change change yourself possible this is not to make the genes change but to make the grace change make the grace grow and in it live no matter the strength of the hateComplete
𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉 (𝟏𝟖+)
"𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡" 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐲𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢. 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐬𝐡 𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.
If you're reading this, it probably means I've died, or gone completely mental and unceremoniously waged war against the shadows that created me. Whatever the reason, I hope you keep reading. I hope my words resonate as truth, that my story, no matter how insane it sounds, exposes the darkest corners of our world. I did all of these things, I killed all of those people, partly because I wanted to, and partly because I felt as if I had no choice. I am no saint. I know what my file says about me, that I'm a narcissistic, highly manipulative sociopath, a genius, incapable of love or empathy, incapable of following the rules, a villain, menace, a monster. While I wish I could say this was all false, it isn't. My name was Danielle Renee Watson. I was born on July 14th 1993 in the small southern town of Kinston, NC. I was raised by my parents Richard and Angela Watson. On May 23rd, 2015, I died in a fatal car crash, my body burned beyond recognition. On that same day, I became Rose Forrester, a genetically modified, highly elusive assassin, created by The Shadow operation. This is my story.
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