Fuck you, Victoria

we live in a society
thats absolutely fine with sexualizing
every inch of our bodies
that defines our potential
by our ability to please
that markets what men like to see
instead of anything we actually need

please explain to me
how my breasts should be perfectly shaped
with fine stitch and lace
for nothing more
than a mans hands to rape

sex is a moment
and my breasts werent even meant for it
but yet here they are on market
for men to measure, mark up
and sell back to me for profit
while ignoring their only purpose

find me a fucking nursing bra
without a wire built in to stab me
for the pleasure of a man to grab me
or padding stacked up to mold me
or a strap too small to hold me

how dare you call it inclusive
to take every chest, nipple and breast
and force it to fit into a torture device

-fuck Victoria and her secrets

A.

The Artist

he is the master of refining
and blurring the lines
he really does think
if he can add enough layers
maybe he can cover up
the person she used to be
smooth the edges
tune out her intuition

but he can’t hide messages
shes already seen
or delete the other girls
that came clean
and i still wonder if shes waiting
for me to make a scene
to tell her all the things
that he also did to me

wouldnt that be convenient
if i fit the narrative
instead of learning from it

but while the artist works
to fill the cracks in his conscience
with likely stories,
he shades the women of his past
and takes the glory
take a look at all their trophies

because there is happiness after him
you cannot shed his layers
but the artist doesnt own the rights to his masterpiece

– stop giving him permission to alter you

A.

Bye Bitch

theres no fucking way i was ever going to wait around while you chased a truth that you made up in your head. you can idealize every piece of trash that floats through your life as a message from god- but its fucking not and you dont get to waft in and out of everyones lives just because you think youre following moses across the red sea. youre just running. and drowning and i cant fucking save you if you think youre flying.
-he was trash, and so was the guy before him

Real Life Love Story

Becoming me was easy
with you
My body lives to do
those things you want it to
It was so beautiful
to watch it happen
In my head

But to look down upon it
my skin could grow
and shrink and stretch
and harden and turn
into dirty playdough
While your body stayed the same
while less and less
I heard you say my name
with endearment
Like my name became
a command and
all the love it once had
drained out if it
Like we twisted and tangled it
until we rang everything out
and sat it aside to dry

We all know why
we siphoned the love out
and poured it all down
in such bounty

We gave it to the creation
of our bodies
and our blood
while our love
dried on the counter
with yesterdays dishes

love after children

A.

Amen

Dear God,
you are a fire
a small, flickering ember
but that ember lights a forest
and a few houses
that surround it

Dear God,
youre fuckin cold
ice blackened on the road
youre the screams
as the car rolls

Dear God,
youre the flatline
while everybodies shaking
looking up and waiting
folding hands and praying

Dear God,
forgive me
for i have sinned
but you created this
why dont you let it end?

why would you mold
the whole world
and tell me i cant live
make me say your name
is it a fetish or a game?

A.

Braindead Debating

a million people screaming
their voices: loud and tall
my ears are fucking ringing
but my mouth won’t move at all

i try to scream, gurgling ink
you must think im braindead
but theres far too many people talking
to let you in my head

 

A.

Dry Humor

Fear is a tool
That’s used to fool
You into choosing
Who gets your money
And its kinda funny
Because those dollars
At the end of the day
Are only used to make us more afraid.

Big screen, american dream, AR15, ass cream
Buy it right from your news feed
That you filled with all your insecurities
While they stood by and gathered data

How many kids do you have?
What are their ages?
Do you have a gun to protect them?
What are their races?
Do you think the world is dying?
Is the internet really lying?
Are they potty trained?
Immunized against the next American shit stain?

Shh don’t tell your mom
She’d flip if she knew
About the shit you’re into
How much it costs to consume
Tell her that it will be ok
Pop a prozac
Fuck the pain away
Rinse, spit and repeat.

A.

Unaccountable

a generation crying about their rights

to their gender

to their guns

to their fancy new emulsion blender

calls on followers to rise together

from their silence

their desk job

and a keyboard built for violence

but the camera lens is too dirty

with a blurring filter

and a heart emoji

and we’re all too high and mighty blind to see them wither

A.