my insides bleed out for the women who loved me,
unconditionally
perhaps i haven't done enough to stop bleeding?
i'm a women, but what makes of the women?
like ice, you melt, you burn, your salty, we learn
hard way or not way.
i'll never be women enough.
smother on my lipstick each morning,
handbake cherry cream pies all day,
clean up my mess, clean up his act.
no rest.
for the women.
