Beneath the pain was a woman who could write like that.
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Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.
Beneath the pain was a woman who could write like that.
weaker small brain less hair inferiority... men say what they think of women.
I simply am dying of love.
I see it now, I do not love anybody except myself.
Can I learn to love the boring, comfortable, convenient life which is passing me by?
It was easier to hate when your love wasn't wanted.
We are in danger of mistaking creative intelligence as neurotic inconsistency.
The female form is fated to male-defined vision. She must deconstruct the self the individuality to ultimately represent the subversive feminine symbol.
Men do not change all their habits for love.
Her feelings were no relief. Her greatest want was him.