Women.
What are we?
To you ?
To ourselves?
Mothers, daughters, wives, friends?
Your cook, maid, the woman you wish to lay down when expected and not complain when you leave her lonely at night?
Just a few letters added to the word man and he thinks that makes him superior to you.
Who are we to you, but left and used, never to feel completely respected, never full of gratitude.
Who are you, but a dude, a bum who thinks himself high and mighty. You're grown? powerful? A man?
Tell me why do I see a child hiding in clothes ten sizes too big? It seems to me that you think biology made you man? A penis? Is that the reason your ego has you so uplifted? Is that the reason you think you stride through life?Stepping over females like old rags, ripped and torn cause you lack the willingness to care for what you have, yet you leave like she made herself look that way? You complain. "Why you always nag? Why don't you give me space? You're always next to me? I need to be free?"
Why?
Why can't you, the child, a "man", understand the feeling we women endure. Feeling lonely in the presence of our man. Knowing there's more but riding through time because we invested so much.
But tell me this? Where would you be without a woman? Who would you be if your mother didn't chose to birth such disrespect? Where would you be if not for the decision of a woman?
You stay out late, expecting a woman to come home to. When you arrive she's ugly and bruised and blamed for the way you left her.
Tell me? What did she do? Nothing but make the mistake of being a wife without having a ring laying on her finger? What did she do but be a mother where yours gave up? What did she do, but be your closest friend when you had no choice but cry behind locked doors? What did she do, but take care of you?
It's true. We, women, the lotuses of a thousand doves. With the power to create and destroy merely by the wisp our sacred glance. We are far more powerful than what he serves our way. We are for more powerful than the tears we shed as we lay in bed surrounded by an empty, heartless home.
It'll all be okay. I know one day when he walks in expecting forgiveness and finds himself left with the same feelings you continuously held deep within, he'll know. I pray that you find a way to hold on, to yourself before anyone else. That you remain humble and bright as Venus's light.
Beautiful butterfly, don't let yourself be dimmed by the cruelties of life. Don't stay waiting in a dark empty room. Learn to make him wait for you. Learn to care for yourself. Remain faithful to your truest desires even if it means spreading your wings when others are too far behind to catch up.
What were we made for but to blossom? Realize all that matters is what you see when look at yourself.
Why fight to be seen as equals when you're already so much more? The world may run through the brows of men but it would be nothing without the touch of a woman.
