They can tell you
Because you’re not going to back down
You won’t sell your sisters for a side ways glance
You won’t burn your bra, you may need it to strangle someone
You have the same look
All of you
The ones with green hair and multiple piercings who say fuck off before you smile
The ones who rule the world behind the scenes and nod as their husbands slip inside
The ones who are glory and begotten and forgotten and eclipsed and insist
They still live
You can tell
Even as they spell it out in myriad ways
I am not your slave
You do not own me
But once I was hurt very badly
By my father, mother, brother, sister, best friend, neighbor, uncle, stranger
And I carry the brand around my throat
Once in a while when I lean over
You can see it quickening
I…
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Commented on original post… ” Extremely powerful… there is a commonality found in shared pain, even when it outwardly expresses itself in a myriad of ways. Your poem conveys that to me and so much more.”
So very well stated.
Powerful, Candice…. Relating to this one. We’ve all been hurt, and the pain we carry is not a badge, but a testament to the strength of all women everywhere. Thank you! ❤️
Every read, every thought, every word a masterpiece. Bravo!!
You do realize you are far too kind but thank you so much dear one
It is my most sincere pleasure!
Thank you for these.