What Makes A Woman?

why must we carry men?

why must we be as strong as cranes to lift their heavy souls

but safe enough not to land on their toes?

why must we hold our tongues and tie them round our necks

to preserve egos in turtlenecks

who think they’re too fly to keep their words checked-in or filtered through at best?

why must we give until we have nothing left?

why must we stay silent when really we are on edge

hanging onto the last thread of joy…

why must we be the root of their happiness

when they are absent support systems?

why must we pretend…shield our suffering with smiles

to save face and keep their friends?

why are these our strengths?

why is it a thing of strength

to bend when betrayal has buttered our stale bread?

why are we told to be grateful because some don’t have bread, even though ours is stale?

why must we tell tall tales to prove we have the best bakery?

why must we be frail to be fulfilled?

why must we be fragile to be feminine?

why must we read our life’s stories in braille…

feel our way through

throwing our thoughts to the wind

to be whirled into space?

the world’s way of telling us there is no space for our ideas

why must we tuck our dreams away

to serve in capacities that kill our spirits?

why is being soaked in the purpose bigger than ourselves

a cause for alarm when it has exceeded the time limit for a purpose we must fulfill out of obligation to a world we owe nothing but the purpose that exceeds expectations?

why does safeguarding our emotions mean we are void of them?

why are we either too much or not enough

too tough or in need of thick skin?

why is the only way to ‘win’ outside of our true selves?

why must our truths be boxed and placed on shelves,

tucked behind better truths?

how dare the world tell us our truths are not good enough?

why must our truths even compete for a seat at the table of voices?

why we must we be silent partners…

sign ourselves into a dance of being dominated

or lose at life?

why is our walking away likened to weakness…

finding our parts and building a home of ourselves likened to selfishness?

why must we never be a spectacle…

a sight to behold.

why must embracing our boldness bring about tensions?

why must one have all these questions of what makes a woman?


Because a dawn has not arrived when she can rise without the day throwing dust in her eyes leaving her with a vision blurred by one of these questions

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