Oder of her chaos, established in every lesson. We see what men can give our women. But, what can women give to themselves? What do you say to the women who are victims? That they don't deserve the voice that they were given? Or to strip them from the power that they were graced with? Feel no evil see it through, I write for the women who feel abandoned, captured in their own shades of sorrow, I write for women in general. Silence is never golden if your voice is taken away from you. We as a nation speak forgiveness for the crime created on other terms. However, we seem to blink away from the situations starting at home. We seem to forget that the correct acronym produced as she is the breathing life source to all of mankind. We produce more than what appears to the lighter source of connection. It's the deeper roots that have not been recognized nor chose to be acknowledge by others that's killing our will to live. Whether it being the people we love or the ones we fall in love with. Each love slowly cascades to a miscommunication seemingly trying to collide with meaningless commitment constantly running out options. Conversations begin to fade attending more to the amount of foundation that could never subside the sudden bruises transcending the blood from her rosy cheeks dry out as the blood drips from then opening gashes on her features. Continuing to spew past her barriers, I pray for her, I live for her, even when she can't see to go on with herself. Due to the simple fact that I use to be her. What she feels is something I cannot seem to forget. The lack of energy, the lingering memories. It all make sense to blame yourself for what others chose to take away from you. Never letting go is what portrays the feelings of discouragement. Life never will make things seem easy. So, we run from our problems instead of dealing with the unnatural causes that put us here in this very moment. Society can provide for the ones in war for others. But what about the individuals in war with themselves? Shying away from the statistics of how many women choose to take away their own happiness instead of finding another way to express what they're going through. I write the forbidden knowledge, leaving the markings on my body to shy away from the intense glares that project what others think about what I believe in. We've been silenced in solitude. We muse take a stand towards what we deserve out of our futures. Time is on its last stand. Stuck in the now never expressing the future. Taking the hands of who could be our next president or our next supreme court. Our voices may mellow in the crowd. Nevertheless, even in the crowd we tend to stick out. Preferring to stick out like a sore thumb of a scared little girl rather than be told I do not belong. It is a complicated fact that I never belonged to anyone nor belong in what is redeemed as a "man's world." The simple fact darling is there is no man without putting the woman ahead of each step we talk. You see, we give you life, we give you birth, we give you god, we give you earth. We aim for more than what others offer flinch at the thought of grasping. No women are the same that is what makes us all beautiful souls. Searching for heaven's meadow for when our times have come we shall lay to rest and be remembered not by the faces by the tone of our voices filled with strength. Not by the carvings of the dangerous curves leading to no end, but the site of integrity gazing its paths beneath the surface. She is a woman, with a past living in her present speaking about her past in the nearest future.
YOU ARE READING
Forbidden Ode. Book One
ChickLitIts a game we once learned as a child to express the things you believe the most. No one never said that being a women in the eyes of others would create chaos of destruction.
