Let the insanity in

Let the insanity in

A Poem by Ankita Dwivedi
"

Her body is naked, but so is her soul sometimes.

"
A black spot in the garden of disguised roses,
giving a part of her spirit to strangers,
a debt that shall never be repaid.
it's not something she chooses.
From the first blow of wind to the last snowflake, her skin a bewitching land of virtue that has no boundaries nor limits.
But can paper ever be a forfeit for love?
A blessed feather that falls on you from above?
The aroma of her brown hair will rush to your treacherous mind and find itself a room.
Her breasts at divine place of worship. Secret folds of warm flash,
a temptation to every inhibition you've ever known.
Would you hold yourself or let the insanity in?
Would you let the Luminous mist cover every mark of your existence?
And then you can't breathe, does holding your breath send chills down your spine?
So hold your breath, don't breathe and find yourself struggling from within.
Would you dare to smile or put on an act?
This is what it's like to be her.
But why does she let this happen to herself? Her misery a Prisoner to her will.
kept in a box someone else created
She is holding her breath exasperated.
She goes from Street to Street,
her dress barely covering her behind.
The small Mirrors in her dress can light up your eyes, casting the shadow behind. Shadow on her.
She is covered in shadows.
Don't let the insecurity in her eyes stale the petals of lust.
Don't ask her name first, it's no use anyway. It's not a real, just like her smile.
Her identity subject to perceptions not strong enough to stand on its own.
Call her sweetheart, babe Or love or just don't watch your tone.
She is spanked to desperation.
She is fucked to frustration.
The marks on her thighs, a proof of how easy it is for her to make someone lose control.
By playing a role or just a wink.
Or some cable ties and kink.
You can spank her to frustration.
You can f**k her to desperation.
She shouts in her perfect voice, "ride boy ride".
Yes, ride boy ride.
Ride her with all your manhood, watch it shrinking by her side.
Ride her with all your strength watch that power melting beneath her eyes.
She is a piece of art gone wrong.
A hard blow of a ceaseless Storm.
A fallen ray from the twilight Sky.
Selling her body for clothes, selling her smile for tears.
Burning by a match you light so her daughters stomach won't burn.
She opens her legs every time you look at her to hold what you can't anymore.
You are a pilgrim, she is a goddess.
Or maybe you are just a monster and she a lamb, more than willing to be slaughtered. Torn apart, from limb to limb.
She is selling her identity for survival.
But ask her name next time, her real name so we don't have to call her 'she'.
She is someone's sister, daughter, mother or wife.
She is drenched in vex .
She uses a tool called sex to counter strike the plight of almighty by selling her womanhood.
The parts he designed.
After all she is a woman and he a man.

© 2020 Ankita Dwivedi


Author's Note

Ankita Dwivedi
Just sit down for a moment and think about all the times where you have sold yourself to people in ways you didn't realise.

My Review

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Featured Review

I love how you seamlessly cross the line between exploited and exploiter. She is simultaneously victim and assailant. That's not an easy picture to paint but you've done it here quite well. The rhyme scheme it's ambitious and you executed it nicely, you also have some lovely turns of phrases. All together, it's a good write.

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

Thank you for your visit and words.. Really appreciate it, my friend..



Reviews

Very graphic and hard hitting as if experienced first hand. Interesting work.

Posted 4 Years Ago


Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

yea , imagination has a great power.Many thanks for visiting ,dear kat.
:)
Life and how we deal with it is a gigantic sale! We're sold down the river, we weep our tears Mankind's day to day hides or displays according to schedule, lured by cant, hypocrisy and promises to make this. that or not. Can only surmise there are multitudes who have no alternative to survive, however,, learn new lessons / Your post really is alarmingly emotional, at times phrased viciously, yet is raw and honest. Most evident is the lack of fear in this writing and yet there are moments of sensitivity and fragility,
' From the first blow of wind to the last snowflake, her skin a bewitching land of virtue that has no boundaries nor limits. - But can paper ever be a forfeit for love? - A blessed feather that falls on you from above?'

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

True, survival is what matters at the end.I'm glad you liked my post .Many thanks for your visit ,Em.. read more
emmajoy

4 Years Ago

Just read this again, and it hit me hard. Your words are as vivid as were, more so because they see.. read more
Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

I can't express how happy i am to know that you're feeling the emotions i wanted my reader to , when.. read more
I think that we take so much for granted when we seek to fill our needs. Often people are only viewed from the surface when there is so much depth to them and they deserve our respect and empathy. Thoughtful write...

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

yes, they do .Thanks for visiting .
:)Ankita
This is not an example of passive complicity by any stretch... but it makes me think of it! The ways we accept the titles of bodnar in the subtle languages of prejudice on a day by day basis... or the preconceived notions of appearances in spite of our actualities, sometimes even fulfilling the precepts for lack of self esteem and/or the programming of society:( This poem makes me want to hold her, and tell her what she really is and how wonderful she is and what she truly deserves! but i cant and shes a poem but i can poem her a hug! wonderful writing Ankita

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

your last two lines are so touching .The way you connected with her ,shows me your soft and generous.. read more
Your message is hard-hitting & clear. Your writing style is imaginative & edgy. I find it interesting that you choose to describe a FEMALE as the one selling herself, altho you mean this message to apply to all kinds of people & all kinds of ways that people sell themselves. My main issue -- this poem goes on & on a bit long with so many details of how fierce & hopeless & ugly this female's life must be. Usually I prefer longer poems becuz I want poets to go in depth (which you do) and not just scratch the surface of an idea. Maybe going on & on at length could be more effective if you didn't drill down for days on ONLY this wanton woman, and instead, if you varied your message to make it more universal to a variety of situations. Altho your overall message is about selling out, this poem could be mistaken for a rant about a sad sell-out of an unprincipled woman in particular. Maybe the abundance of details seem a little repetitive to me & I'd like to see more variety in the ideas you present in a long poem (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 4 Years Ago


Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

I really appreciate the time you have invested .Will definitely keep your advice in mind and try to .. read more
Only she knows the real person beneath what is sold. Not just a prostitute sells herself. The person in retail sells not only a product, but herself. She morphs into what she feels the consumer needs. So who is in charge here? There is a thin line. I liked this. Lydi**

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

She knows how to pry her way .In the end all that truly matters is survival and she's fighting for i.. read more
Many ways to sell yourself. In a world of takers and thieves. Easy to sell what you have. I was a soldier for almost 15 years. I befriended the ladies of the night. Great talks we had and I learn.Someone is always trying to own what they can't have. Great poetry. Made the reader think and ponder dear Ankita.
Coyote

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

She might sell her body for basic necessities but we sell our soul for delicious luxuries.we 're bot.. read more
Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

Respect and salute to your bravery and to being a soldier.Truly.
Coyote Poetry

4 Years Ago

You are welcome dear Ankita.
I love how you seamlessly cross the line between exploited and exploiter. She is simultaneously victim and assailant. That's not an easy picture to paint but you've done it here quite well. The rhyme scheme it's ambitious and you executed it nicely, you also have some lovely turns of phrases. All together, it's a good write.

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

Thank you for your visit and words.. Really appreciate it, my friend..
There are many different ways to sell ourselves...in order to try to find that elusive something that might make us happy...but in the end we may become richer, monetarily, but deep in the heart and soul
we are still barren as a wasteland.
j.

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ankita Dwivedi

4 Years Ago

Thank for your review.
Ankita :)

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731 Views
32 Reviews
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Added on August 26, 2020
Last Updated on August 26, 2020
Tags: Prostitutes, womanhood, devil in the dark, man

Author

Ankita Dwivedi
Ankita Dwivedi

Noida, Utttar pradesh, India



About
Hey guys!! read my poetry and do give your reviews. I need your support. I really hope that it will lead every individual to find something they felt at some point, a feeling they thought were alien... more..

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