Room Full Of Men

history.com

It’s chance you said. It wasn’t on purpose you said.

Why are you still on that you say. Let it go. It doesn’t matter.

You don’t see.

You don’t feel the air pressure drop

The time slow down

As your heart speeds up.

You. Don’t. Know.

A room full of men, before I tell you and you look around.

While I’ve been breathing deep and growing taller

Standing straight and speaking clear.

A room full of me, you can’t care for, as you take up part of it

And I fall into the wall, become one with their shadows,

So they can’t touch me.

A room full of men.

A promised threat, that might be fulfilled at any time

And any whim.

A room full of men

And I must stand the one,

The only,

The lone,

Proof

That you are not alone in the world.

But you might as well be,

As it revolves around you so effortlessly.

A room full of men. So what, you say? We didn’t choose it.

My skin crawls.

At your nonchalant false truths,

At your confident illusions

At your perverted normalcy

That allows a room full of men

To stay in charge.

Today I woke up for democracy

Today I sat on front of open voting booths and stared into the eyes of those who never valued mine

Today I cried for a girl who’d forgotten her ID

And ceased to exist

Today I fought for a single vote

For a single voice that kept being buried by a cacophony of indulgent fights

Today I screamed at my phone and at the night

And at the gods that made me subservient enough to have the door

Slammed and locked

In my placid face

Today I counted

Like my life depended on it

Because all of my fights

And all of my tears

And all of my screams

Did

Today I was dismissed

Even after I gave the antidote to the fever that plagued us –

Sorry –

THEM

An US I tried to find today

Only to lose myself.

There was the house my great-grandmother used to live in. We all have photos in it, three generations of women, standing in front of bright flowers and open doors.

We all took first steps with her. Some in freedom, some in war, some under imperialist rule, she saw us all stumbled and reach.

I don’t know how she learned to read. They’ve told me the story, but I can’t imagine her ever not reading. So, I always forget what a teacher said or what a father allowed. It is always her I see, standing in front of a crowd, speaking with a steady voice, full of ideas that no one ought to have when she had them.

I know she led my grandmother into chemistry. I know she held my mother when hers was in a pharmacy, and war was breaking.

And I see her holding all of us in the photos we have of her.

We can’t go to her house. We can’t smell the flowers she loved. They aren’t hers anymore. And they could never be ours. And what a lie it would have been to be able to hold onto what we’ve lost over and over again, and what we know we might never get back.

You

with Your bulging biceps and Your bushy beard
You walk around like You own the world
because You own so much in it
my right to speak, certainly
my words sound funny to Your ears,
they are so big, they try to match Your height,
since i cannot
of course,
i am always trying to beat You
only to realise that no one could ever
match You
with Your protein shakes and Your weightlifting belts

and i
i am only a metre and a half
of lost potential
with my voice for singing
and my arts degree
i am not as pretty as the girls that you bring home
although if the night was long enough you would settle for me no?
and when your ego falls a bit flat, you’ll tell me what’s on your mind
because i have a considerate ear
even for those with only condescending tongues

I listen
and I wait for you to see My value
what a waste
of My time and My potential
to be thinking of your opinions and your feelings
as small as they might be
and they always look so small next to your big, big muscles
you prefer to inflate them
and I cannot wait for the day
they’ll guide you closer to the sun
in your attempts to be the only shiny thing
and you will burn
faster than you can realise
you were never bright to begin with.

give me back my light

the fog #6

You aren’t real.

I thought you brought the light in
but the truth is
you’re only stealing my light
to reflect it back to me.

There is no clarity within this fog of insecurity
i want to find my way out
but i can see enough to know
that you can’t lead me anywhere
and so i won’t ask you to hold my hand
(if i’m strong enough, i won’t even accept yours if you offer it)

i’ll brave the haze
i’ll fight the fog
knowing i carry the only light that can guide me

out
and away
perhaps home

others have tried to take it from me before
but they soon find it hard to hold on to
without getting burnt
you are no different; are you?

give me back my light;
nevermind,
i’ll take it myself.

you bring the storm

the storm #5

I let my heart break into pieces
let the wind carry them away
like leaves swirling in the air
in the wake of a storm
you bring the storm
with your warm hands
you let the fragments of my hopes melt under your heat
and I hear the cracking of the leaves under your boots
it matches the cracking of my lungs
they can’t take any more air in
every time you’re near
and all the times you aren’t
I cannot find a shelter
for the storm I know will come

i search for you

the desert #4

I search for you
i know there is nothing you will say that will get me to smile
as brightly as i smile at everything i want you to say
and yet i search for you
in a desert of unspoken reasons
i should let you sink into quicksand
and hide all my oases from you
because others have quenched their thirsts
in my holy waters
in my bottomless wishing wells
in my tears
and have left me
e m p t y
wondering if i will ever be anything but
deserted.

scream my name

the sea #3

I’ll scream your name
into the ocean
let the sea see
your flaws that must be there
but i can never point out

and if you scream mine
into an abyss of alcohol and hurt
i’ll let the waves drag me deep within their cold reality
which will still be warmer than the ones i’ve known

and i’ll let your figure expand
into the fog and the confusion
of dream and nightmare
and i’ll promise
once i turn away from you
i’ll never look back.

who brings the rain?

the cloud #2

This time you brought the rain

you danced a secret dance
as far away from me as possible
but the clouds still found their way to my parade
and by the end of the night
i was the only one soaked by salty tears
and you were nowhere to be found

i danced too
but was only pretending to not be dancing for you
while you were losing yourself in eyes
that weren’t mine
i understand
mine always ask for silent promises
and loud feelings

so there i was
under your cloud
cold in your rain
and yet never close to you

i don’t want your umbrella
i will not ask for it
and if you offer it
i’ll t r y to remember
the rain has never hurt me more
than you.

i am colder

the shadow #1

there is a shadow covering you
of the cloud i blew over your head
hoping the shade would darken your light
but it might be too bright
it travels deep within me, reaching for one of the souls
i have yet to gamble away
and squeezes
and i feel the warmth, the overpowering glow from the inside
for a moment of bliss
and then it’s gone
and i am colder than i’ve ever been
though i have seen ages of ice
it is not its presence
but your absence
that chills my very being

Food.for.Thoughts

Shared stories empower people

I Have Something To Say

Transformation After Narcissistic and Emotional Abuse

Reparent Your Soul

Trauma, Mental Health & More!

One Chance to See the World

Insta @onechancetoseetheworld

forgottenmeadows

thoughts from my mind to yours

Short Prose

Poetry and Prose by Gabriela Marie Milton #1 Amazon Bestselling Poet & Editor, Award Winning Author, Pushcart Prize Nominee

The Write Nook

Where writing comes to life.

emotionspassion.com

Emotional musings

Learning to write

Just your average PhD student using the internet to enhance their CV

BY THE LEFT HAND...

Brett Kristian

Pardis

Where your state of mind meets reality

Marias blog

its like a diary..my thoughts my fictional stories..everything in here..

(CALIATH)

An Empyrean Cycle

Honestly Claire

“Truth is like a rose; you have to love it with all of its thorns.” ― Matshona Dhliwayo

Refashion It

Ο δεύτερος παράγοντας μόλυνσης του πλανήτη μετά το πετρέλαιο είναι η παραγωγή ρούχων...... Τι μπορείς να κάνεις με τα ρούχα σου.