Login
|
Join PoetrySoup
Home
Submit Poems
Login
Sign Up
Member Home
My Poems
My Quotes
My Profile & Settings
My Inboxes
My Outboxes
Soup Mail
Contest Results/Status
Contests
Poems
Poets
Famous Poems
Famous Poets
Dictionary
Types of Poems
Quotes
Short Stories
Articles
Forum
Blogs
Poem of the Day
New Poems
Resources
Syllable Counter
Anthology
Grammar Check
Greeting Card Maker
Classifieds
Member Area
Member Home
My Profile and Settings
My Poems
My Quotes
My Short Stories
My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder
Soup Social
Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us
Member Poems
Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Random
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread
Member Poets
Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest
Famous Poems
Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100
Famous Poets
Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War
Poetry Resources
Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetics
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Email Poem
Your IP Address: 3.144.252.201
Your Email Address:
Required
Email Address Not Valid.
To Email Address:
Email Address Not Valid.
Required
Subject
Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
It all starts when your 13, and all the girls they want to be queens. They all wanted to have crowns of gold and steal. They wanted to rule kingdoms that were their body’s and it all started out kind. I mean we were all just our mothers children, learning to love castles which already had canon holes that shattered our foundations and this is the age where we learn to walk home. Where our mothers sit us down and tell us about angry men and their hands and their words. Where my mother gave me a can of pepper spray and said Incase, she said incase. The first time I walked home with a tiara balanced on my head a shadow of a man followed me back and whispered ugly into my ears, and I believed him. So my crown fell, the jewels shattered on the ground along with my teardrops, my silken dress exchanged for armor, I wiped of my smile, and cleaned the blood that crusted my knee caps. I, I had to get back up the next day and do it all over again. But, I whispered to all the silent sins make me queen or I’ll make you scream. And they finally bowed down until their knees scrapped on the ground and bled all the horrid broken syllables that they yelled at me from the streets. I am not a whore, or a pretty little thing, or your “baby”, I am neither a slut nor your plaything, or something you can grab at with your grubby fingers as if I’m a toy. So I try and walk away now with a crown of broken mirrors resting gently on my hair. I hope that you see yourself in them, I hope you swallow your reflection, it mirrors your ugly crumbling hands that seem to shake when you drink your alcohol, it shows the reflection of your mother who still wonders why you sit on the streets when you could have been home helping her make dinner. But it doesn’t matter cause my mother will sit at home and her words of “be careful” will still echo in my footsteps on my way home, and I don’t know if anyone will hear them except maybe the pepper spray that guards my school bag and the girls that whisper of their fear in the locker rooms. I will walk a little faster, glancing over my shoulder as I go and I’ll wonder if anything will ever change.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required