Women

The bitter bite of being underestimated,

again,

as if I am not sewn together,

from the ones

the world tried to tear apart.

pexels-photo-556658

Today,

I am not the girl I was.

I am patched up,

with pieces,

a collage of Queens.

Their bones are fused,

with my refusal to be silent,

we are together,

awake,

unlocked,

all over the world.

We graffiti the streets,

with pictures of promise,

daring to be the women we needed.

pexels-photo-556665

They told my Grandma,

“Find a nice man,

have a baby,

get a new kitchen,

if you behave yourself.”

They told my Grandma to change herself.

She changed the world,

instead.

So will I.

pexels-photo-205000


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Notes To My Muse
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