She wore pearls. Passed down from her mother's grandmother.
They outlawed pearls.
She grew gardens of flowers .
They criminalized flowers.
She had heels as sharp as her tongue.
They cut both out.
She had a voice. A Choice. A say.
And they gagged her.
Yet at her funeral,
They dressed her in pearls.
They covered her in flowers.
They put on her heels.
They claimed no one can speak for this dead body - for only it can make such decisions for itself.
Because only in this cruel and backwards world can a dead body have more autonomy than a woman.
(Admittedly not my best work. Please donate to help fight for reproductive rights in your state. Initiate change by speaking out, protesting, and electing pro-choice leaders into your government.)
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Random Poetry and Writings
RandomThis is just a collection of poems I write with maybe some short little stories added in there for shiggles. For the sleepless nights, the lonely nights, the arty nights, and all in between.
