I Knew My Faults-Sarah Doughty

“I knew my faults.
And they always stared

back at me in the mirror.”

As long as I can remember, I knew my faults. They were engraved in my flesh, repeated so often that even I saw nothing else. I knew every one. Believed every one. I was every one.
I knew my faults when I was toddling around, learning how to speak, how to walk, how to cower.
I knew my faults when I began school. How I wasn’t smart enough, not social enough. How I was a target in school. And at night.
I knew my faults in the dark. I learned my best to do what was required of me, but I was never quite good enough. I knew what my hands needed to do, how my lips should stay soft, or how my hips were supposed to move with the right timing. After awhile, I knew those moves just enough to get by.

I knew my faults. And they always stared back at me in the mirror.

© Sarah Doughty

I Knew My Purpose-Rachel Finch

I knew my purpose
when little legs were
thrust apart,
foreign hands moulding my body
into a better fit for themselves,
shaping my form and my future.
I knew my purpose when they
took their turns and the skin on
my face didn’t burn beneath the salt,
but soaked it into every pore with a
remembering.
I knew my purpose when the
bruises painted my inner thighs
and even my silent lips couldn’t
hide the gospel.
I knew my purpose when the tears fell and
only the birds were listening.
Shades of hurt patterned my flesh and I was
already living in the knowing.
I would grow wings and beat them to the
sound of every whimper of a sister
and I would turn the betrayal into a war cry
for peace and justice

I Knew My Fate-1Wise Woman

 
I knew my fate when
Enraged voices penetrate
Vulnerable
Eyes closed tight
Dreaming of locks
Picked and set free
I knew my fate when
Words embedded
Forever me
Followed by scenes
Violent
Seen and unseen
I knew my fate when
Heart carried weight
Haunted
Day and night
Searching for savior
Bury the burden
I knew my fate when
Reflection revealed
Strength intrinsic
Click
An open door
Running no more


 

I Knew My Stature – Aurora Phoenix

I knew my stature when I was a shrinking violet
wilting wallflower
hangdog hanging in the corner of the gym
stewing in the stench of pubescent sweat
and hurricanic hormonal surges
a bit too fleet of mind
and broad of hip
to be asked to dance.
I knew my stature when I was a shriveling teen
angularly angling
for acceptance in the seat of those size 4 jeans
gaunt of cheek and lean on ease
I nibbled on the knowledge
skinny girls get dated
while I wasted \wishing\ away.
I knew my stature when I was a curvaceous coed
unholstering my sexuality
like the black market weapon it was
filed down and ripe for the bidding
overpowered and unequipped for battled
shooting myself in the foot
greenhorn that I was.
I knew my stature when I was a birthing Bessie
nursing \wet and dry\
bequeather of sustenance and succor
repository of binkies, hugs and tissues
beneath notice as an independent woman
selling my soul for a closed bathroom door.
I knew my stature when I strode that shore
clove in rhythm
with the seething tides
shedding the skin
of a thousand judging serpents
one with the wilding waves
as they sing my siren song.

 

Meet new Whisper and the Roar Contributing Writer Kristiana Reed- Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis 1KR

Metamorphosis Pt. 1

Limp and beautiful

she hung

foetal, knee to chin

shimmering in sun

and starlight

reflected in morning dew

slipping beneath curled toes

foetal, knee to chin

woven membrane

silk in which to blossom

to grow.

 

Limp and broken

she hung

stretched feet dangling

low

deformed wings

hints of blue

she could have been so beautiful

ripped too early

layers of silk torn in two

in which she blossomed

and bled.

 

Metamorphosis Pt. 2

Time taught her fingers to work

Bandaged bruises

Marionette strings holding

Up smiles

At first she flitted

Between flowers and trees

Flirted with destiny

Towing her baggage

Learning to love

Her damage

 

Patience with needle and thread

Spun silk sewn

into the fibre

Of her very being

Soothed bruises

And her heart of lead

From crawling on awkward knees

Wind whistled softly

Lifting paper thin wings

Made of steel.

Metamorphosis 2


Kristiana Reed juggles writing and teaching English; in both vocations she endeavours to remind people of their self worth and how dazzlingly beautiful the world can be.

You can read more of Kristiana’s writing at My Screaming Twenties