Woman, a word I never knew the meaning of.
They said it meant to cook, to clean, but never mentioned love.
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Woman, a sound that filled my heart with dread,
For it meant an empty face whose thoughts were always left unsaid.
Woman, a creature left to rust upon a shelf
And taken down to dust, but only when they needed help.
Woman, the word sends fire through my veins,
A burning heat which screams through stitched up lips til nothing else remains.
Woman, the sound of weeping in the night,
A silent stream of brokenness and shattered, fractured light.
Woman, a creature they never could have known.
Did they not see the spark inside, which threatened to explode?
I am not a made up doll for you to look upon.
I’m not this skin, these curves, or a barren, vacant mind.
I am more than eyes and breasts, more than gentleness.
I’m more than your wants, your needs, the feel of my caress.
I am light and dark and all that’s in between,
A goddess born of might, of strength, and victory.
Woman, my name, one you will not soon forget;
Without me you’d be nothing, and no one would exist.
Woman, a name that’s spoken many ways.
It strives to break the chains of bigotry and oppression it creates.
Woman, the name of every face
Together we are justice, truth, regardless of our race.
Woman, I stand and shout it to the sky,
For now I know it’s who I am,
No more filters, no more lies.
Photo credit: Christian Newman; https://unsplash.com/@ismaelnieto
