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My poetry dump

[stargirl1275]

Temple of Aphrodite

You lower your head,

Eyes turned upwards towards the Goddess Herself above.

Whispers of half-formed prayers slip sweetly from your lips,

Landing softly on the altar of womanhood spread before you.

Make holy what once was sacrilege.

From filthy, crude, and immoral

To pure and unblemished.

Wash it away and cleanse the soul.

Oh, God was called upon

Through bated breath and half-lidded eyes.

Finally

A gasp,

A cry,

A shudder,

Oh how those prayers were answered

[stargirl1275]

Worship

I found religion in you.

In the gaps between your teeth,

The crook of your elbow,

And the curve of your smile.

Your kiss is my communion,

Your voice a hymn.

I was baptized in your gaze

And in your arms I found salvation

[mournfulroses]

Albert Camus, from his novel titled "The Fall," originally published in 1956

[stargirl1275]

A woman's rage is passed down to her like a family heirloom; Anger is woven into her lineage like threads in a blanket

[stargirl1275]

Girlhood

Girlhood is butterflies and flower stud earrings It’s pinky promises and tiny buckles on tiny mary jane shoes It’s pinks and purples (but secretly, blues and greens) Girlhood is walking past the camisoles in favor of the oh so grown up training bras It’s sneaking mascara and lip gloss into the school bathroom, and rubbing it off before going home It’s having your first kiss on a dare while sitting in the grass at recess, As your friends giggle off in the distance. Girlhood means watching the older girls and idolizing their every movement Copy and pasting their speech and style onto yourself, Shortening skirts and straightening hair Wearing your mom’s heels and wobbling around your room Girlhood is catcalls It’s “hey baby” and “smile more” It’s pepper spray and mace and keys between knuckles Girlhood is sneaking out of bedroom windows, Going on high-speed joy rides with the older boys from school It’s drinking beers in an open field with your friends Because what else is there to do in a small town It’s spending hours with boys inside cars parked at the edges of empty lots, Seeing them two months later at the bar, Their hand creeping onto the lower back of a girl from another school, And pretending you never knew them.  It’s holding back hair as your friends vomit Tito’s and regret into a bathroom stall toilet Before going back out and dancing to Abba With the girls who let you borrow a lip liner, The ones who slurred through compliments of “so gorgeous” and “wayyy better than him!” Girlhood is screaming matches with your mother Ripping your throat raw with words like broken glass and sharp nails It’s praying you never grow up to be like her Crows feet and silvery hair, Tired and miserable and wishing you did more. It’s wanting to leave this stupid town To go somewhere far and exciting, Like New York City and Los Angeles and Paris It’s wanting freedom, to fly away and never come back Girlhood is wishing for womanhood, and womanhood is realizing girlhood never actually ended That deep down, under the lipstick and perfumes, There will always be butterflies and flower stud earrings.

[stargirl1275]

To The Boys I Slept With In College (And Some I Actually Liked) Thank you. Thank you to the med school student, Who was charming and smart And had a great future going for him. Whose age was too high And whose hairline was too far back To be looking at me. Who wanted me to call him names during sex That a 25-year-old should not be asking An 18-year-old to call him. Yes, you technically happened The summer before college, But you haunt my narrative More than Laura Palmer haunts Twin Peaks. Thank you to bonfire boy, Who didn’t want anything more than casual, And was too ugly for me to take home to mom But was still nice enough To buy me Celsius after we hooked up. Who I wasn’t super into, But he was tall and skinny, So I had to know if the rumors were true. They were true. You never actually did anything wrong, I just caught feelings I shouldn’t have Also, I’m sorry my best friend called you A rat-faced whore, And I’m sorry she was right Thank you to my first college ex, Who cooked his favorite foods from home for me. Who always drove and paid, And who showed me what a true gentleman is. Sure, you’re so self-aggrandizing You’d probably suck yourself off if you could, But you made me paper lilies on Valentine’s Day, Because lilies are my favorite and paper doesn’t die. So thanks. Thank you to the long-distance ex-boyfriend, The one who wrote “Love ya” On the Valentine's Day card and roses he sent me. We broke up before Valentine’s Day. Who was scared to tell his parents I’m not white. The one who was so unappealing, My cousins were genuinely afraid I’d marry him. You’re racist, your beard is patchy, And you’re 23 with no driver's license. Pick a struggle. Thank you to the boxer, Who was so similar to me, It felt like I was talking to a mirror. Who was kind and smart, And had biceps as big as his sense of humor. The one who decided we’re better off “just as friends”, Then kissed me three days later While I cried on his couch, Sobbing about how I just wanted us to work. I hate to break it to you, But last time I checked, Friends don’t normally sleep together. Thank you to every failed talking stage. Every awkward wave in the halls, Every “oh my god, those two know each other.” Every dorm I left before 7 am. Thank you to every Block. Delete. And left on “read”. Without them, I wouldn’t have learned To stop putting up with stupidity. I wouldn’t have learned my own worth. Without the lows, there aren’t any highs, And trust me when I say there were many lows. So for all that I thank you. Thank you for helping me realize That, as much as you all kinda sucked in the end, (And some of you just sucked in general), I came out of it pretty fucking awesome. P.S. Thanks to all of them for the acting practice