Give a Damn with C. Streetlights – FEMININE COLLECTIVE

Aging Red

February 21, 2022February 21, 2022 C. Streetlights

These days, they melt like a Dali minutes dripp- ing into the hours but seconds pour, pour, pour- ing into the days. I wear age like I do my lipstick – bright, bold, and red. I am red years old. Age is a number that deceives like a Seurat, dots Read more

Other Lies

January 21, 2022January 21, 2022 C. Streetlights

Emotion so vibrant its colors laugh. Passionate whispers carry through the wind only to shudder instead on leaves with anticipation. The night falls silent and stars hold their breath. Broken dreams gather on the dark side of the moon. Standing still, Time holds its breath waiting while I trace the Read more

dear shelley: (the one who says I’m a whore)

January 8, 2019January 8, 2019 C. Streetlights

not shelley, +++ the one I taught +++as a 6th grader not shelley, +++the one I know +++from chicago but shelley, +++the one from ohio +++who says I’m trash does it make you mad +++to know your words +++make my fire burn brighter? your anger delights +++my power, it validates +++my Read more

Bitch Please, I Don’t Need Your Words

May 17, 2018October 15, 2018 C. Streetlights

There is a fundamental truth that is recognized by many to be by Mark Twain (though it is doubtful Twain every said such a thing) that “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” In fact, while the advice is sound, the quote itself comes from Alfred Read more

Viper

April 26, 2018October 15, 2018 C. Streetlights

Small, eyes narrowing, tracking your prey with feigned friendship — I know who you are, with your erratic charge (manipulation cloaked as passion). Betrayal as a muse {a doppelgänger, mocking}tritely bestowing your grace on those you torture, a benefactress of asphyxiation. Hollow words drip from your hollow fangs (curved from Read more

when joy is trapped in forced levity: a beat poem

January 8, 2018October 13, 2018 C. Streetlights

so there they are now, floating vexation on curled ribbon, meant to brighten on any occasion only to darken every mother’s despotism. balloons. fuck the balloons. either they sink too soon or never do. terrible humans, who are you who first flew bags with air? I’d like to shove these Read more

Time’s Signature

November 4, 2017October 13, 2018 C. Streetlights

The words of those around me, I know, are shallow still for all their false depth of character. The words I keep from me, I know, are deeply held on shallow shelves for easy reach. I crave to only ever hear my voice, whispering in the life I dance. May Read more

Walking With Whitman

May 19, 2017October 11, 2018 C. Streetlights

There was a Child went forth every day: And the first object [she] look’d upon, that object [she] became: And that object became part of her for the day, or a certain part of the day, or for many years, or stretching cycles of years. These kites set me free Read more