Stepping out of the shadows No more lurking behind the scenes Time for her to take center stage Shine the spotlight please All eyes on she She who is me Time for the flower to bloom Rise to your feet as the Queen enters the room Shining like the brightest star You can’t block her rays Move out of her way Close your mouth and open your ears She has something to say Meekness often mistaken for weakness, Hear this lioness roar! Author: Tanika Feaster Email: tdfeaster@write4u.net Author Bio: Tanika Feaster is a freelance writer/blogger specializing in the health/wellness and spirituality niches.


We raise our daughters Be strong, be bold, be beautiful We brush their hair Garden girls with meadow heads Perfect wives, loving mothers Not forces to be reckoned with We raise our daughters but encourage their heads to grow towards the ground I refuse to fall I refuse to be weighted, anchored by the image you set out for me Like clothes on a bed Before I could even fit into them We raise our daughters but only to fit As if love had a certain shape A mold or it would break Conditional and cracking As a little girl I played in the garden My hair fell out of messy plaits I felt pretty amongst the flowers My sister and I We became garden girls with meadow heads Important and beautiful And as we grew higher our hair grew lower We gained shackles that grew to our sacrum That wisped in the wind,...


Never forget your roots, where you come from. Otherwise your blood will shout of the history of your ancestors when you least expect it. Eat your roots, drink them, swallow them, digest them, they dwell within you. If not, people will remind you by discriminating you. Never forget the warmth of your blood. Yet accept and love all cultures and traditions which adorn our world. Never forget the one who conceived you in labour and pain. And the masculine arms who carried you within the walls of your home. Never forget the struggle they have been through to settle in a foreign country so that you had a chance do to better than they did. Never forget the earth that made this body of clay, one day when God said that what he made was “good”. Never forget to honour the breath he has breathed in yo...


There once lived a swan her world a hullabaloo beauty camouflaged in flaws her spirit the strongest hue she battled on with the current upstream struggling to catch up hesitant to break a beam landing herself in an unfamiliar dawn she began to swallow the verity alone intense and vulnerable she bore a heart of mayhem masked under serenity on one of those days of flounder a cob flew down , his wings fluttering he dabbled along her side helping her reach her food with a swing as he swam past her wake sweeping the ruffling ripples with ease the still waters transpiring her reflection he made her look at the beauty she never knew she was as the moons shined on the cob continued showing her the path the obstacles never seized, but she would now not dither as she realized she was indeed a beauti...


Unable to Soar    She curled her body within the flowers. As the stems grew, she attached her limbs to the twigs—wove herself a cocoon and closed her eyes for her first rest. When she hatched, no one was waiting for her to spread her wings. She stretched out and watched the sky above her; she would not—could not—join the clouds. Her breath rose and she gathered her wings into the flowers until her wings were lost in the transparent colors. She became a reflection, a mirror with nobody but herself looking in.   Metamorphosis   She spins coils around the past,   chooses to sink within the silk   to prepare for the breach in her external self.   She dissolves and resolves,  rearranges her living parts and pieces  to shake away the skin she no longer needs.   She dreams of the day she can soar...


Still Standing  After all the   Pushing and pulling   Giving and taking  Tears and screams  I’ve wiped my eyes   No longer will you  Control my life  I’ve been through  Much worse than you  And I’m still standing    Loved  I don’t need the spotlight  Or the adoring crowds  I don’t need the validation  Of people who in time may  Become a blip in my past    I don’t need constant  Reassurance that  I am worth their time  What I need is comfort  And love  True love, real love  Unconditional love    The kind of love that fills you with light  The kind of love that makes you  Radiate with joy  The kind that fills you with butterflies and  Makes your heart race  I don’t ask for much  All I desire is to be   Loved for who I am  And who I will become  ...


Take life as it comes,  Embrace the unwanted flaws,  Learn from the mistakes and failures,  Focus on the positives of life,   Practice what you like  That makes you and   people you love happy.   Those who genuinely care  will love you for who you are,  Even with all your weirdness.  Remember nothing is one hundred percent.  Even fingers you are born   with on your hands  Are not of same sizes.   Life is a celebration   that is to be celebrated like our festivals  With love, happiness, gratitude,   Care and respect.  Celebrate life. Be authentic. Have fun.   You only live once   And your time in this world   is too valuable.    Author: Anisha K Chhetri Email: anishakhadka@icloud.com Author Bio: *From Virginia. *Native American, Nepalese. *Freelance Photographer, Music Video Director, Edito...


there are days that my mind blows in circles  full pressure towards the same place.  some days   I cannot find daylight  and night time stays dark.  I’d say that every cloud has a lining,  that rain stops,  but it’s only to breathe, begin again.  my heart is full of scars  my hands are full of…    There are hours that I stare at the rain   tapping the window—  it feels like more than me and  nothing else feels real:   sadness isn’t even a memory;  happiness  feels so fragile,   a distant dream.  my hands are full of     on sunny days  you said you’d be there,  and in the moments that you were  the clouds cleared  for a sweet second.  I felt you close  my heart never felt so light.  breathing was easy  I felt your breath in my hair,   how your shirt was damp from my tears.  I felt your hand...


Fear creeps in As the daylight fades Twilight comes along Bringing with it the blades. The back rests and the battle begins The same teams, the same fight As the insomniac in you fidgets You know its only keeping you up with fright Toss and turn around in bed Was it the body shaming at work? Was it the 3-year-old break up at the back of your head? Was it the coldness in your flatmate’s smirk? You know the teams are stronger tonight. Those love handles seem to love you too much Those dark circles ain’t gonna get any better Those sickening stares across the street make you feel so stuck All those “haters gonna hate” don’t get you any closer. A sudden clank in the hallway pulls you out of your covers “Anabelle?” “Bathsheeba?” You wonder which ones at your door And then you find yo...


Not Your Garden  You are not entitled to pick flowers from someone else’s garden, uninvited even if they are displayed for the world to see. ———————— Purity Purity; a dirty little word that keeps half the world in chains. ———————— Flowers and Silence That flower between your legs bares king and peasant, writer and artisan, healer and soothsayer, yet still they have the audacity to silence you.   Author: Emily Byrnes Email: e10rear@gmail.comAuthor Bio: Emily Byrnes is a mental health advocate/dog mom/feminist/writer from New York’s capital region. You can check out her Instagram page for more of her work. Link to social media or website: https://www.instagram.com/emilybyrnes_/ 


I am not threatened By acknowledgement. By a man’s smile Or hello or nod. I am not frightened By friendliness. I am threatened By the predatory belief That I am prey, To be hunted and trapped. Men tell men That persistence is key. That if I say stop, I mean push harder. The goal Is to wear me down But I am already worn, And it has only Made me wary. It makes me wonder If that “nice guy” Is expecting My body or heart As a reward for being Such a “nice guy.” I am threatened By the Looks Words Touches That scream in my face That my consent is Unnecessary. I am threatened Because men Have heard women’s voices Say, “Please stop Your words affect us They hurt us They infringe upon us” And they have chosen To continue. Men have replied “It is just words. You are too sensit...


I dream like  I breathe  Take away all the luxuries I have,  I would not say a word.  Take away all my belongings,  I would not say a word.  Take away all that I have,  I would not say a word.  But I request you not ask me to give my dreams away   Because they are the reasons of my existence,  I dream like I breathe,  Without dreams, I would die instantly.       Author: Anisha K Chhetri Email: anishakhadka@icloud.com Author Bio: *From Virginia. *Native American, Nepalese. *Freelance Photographer, Music Video Director, Editor, Script Writer. *Love Movies, Books, Music. Foodie. *Art Lover (Any Form of Art). Link to social media or website:  Instagram @anishachh

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