Tag Archives: pressure

The Pressure

I feel their many hands
Clamouring onto my feet
Hear the gnashing of their teeth
And in my mind the anxieties of their souls they do speak

Air thick with the hunger for freedom
Begging me for salvation
The lamentations of the ones who cannot speak
Seek me like pilgrims seek enlightenment

But why do these dark souls clamouring at my feet, now hanging onto my legs
Ask for spilt blood as their release fee?

My legs are getting tired now.
My soul would like to just be.

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Attractive Oppression

You scratch along my breasts, hands like claws, demanding the replenishment of my chest

Squeeze my waist until it resembles no other dream than yours

Making my hips heavy with the birth of your woes and demons

My legs are heavy and in pain; you think they ground me to this Earth but all I feel are chains

My legs, they cry out

But all you see is my maternal gain


The sway of my hips that cause me harm, imbalances and misaligns me but bears your sins

How can you be so content when I writhe with agony?

Why do you not see the tragedy of this weight you forced upon me?

Trapping me and immobilising me of any sense of personal sovereignty


You act like you own me.

My depression in your eyes is a blessing.

You even continue cursing me, filling me with toxicity till my waist-beads struggle with the capacity

Eating your insanity for dessert and your disdain for starters

Chefs after my own heart.

Seeking to find it and bind it in layers of waste and fat.

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Sitting Pretty

It’s like a war of the nerves

Keeping calm even when your heart is in pain


Creating a scenario where life feels like a game

So simple things one may gain


Never fully escaping the pain

But being a slave to other things before one goes insane


So what does one do?

They live for the fame

Unraveling the truth of their aim from society’s naked eye


Going from scene to scene

Creating havoc

As their soul slowly slips out from within


But the fame keeps them going

Seeking relief from their deathly daily submission


Many do not even know if their path is as wild as this

Or their view as tainted

But they are aware their key to survival is different


A lion and a tiger may look the same but they ultimately have different views in life; Different survival techniques

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Modern Ms Baker

What does it feel like when they crave your blood?

Put you on a pedestal, make you our thug
To purposely maim is to purposely kill
And to destroy

So why is it when your body hits the casket with a thud
Your reputation is thrown to the mud

Why is it when you knock on death’s door like they asked they forget what it is like to truly bring a thug to task

A piece of lasting entertainment
A piece of ass

What mess they make of feminism
What they bloody have the cheek to ask

To be perfect in all the ways a man
Without risking a bit of sass

No room for doubt, no doubt.

Your slip will begin to show
But hey, that’s all they want and that’s all they care to know

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