If a man screams at the top of his lungs
He is making is opinion known

If a woman screams at the top of her lungs
She is hysterical

For a woman will never be able to have her opinion known
Because if she screams
She is crazy

But if a man screams
It is normal and that he has the right to be heard

While a woman must be silenced and should not be loud

Sit like a lady and keep your mouth quiet.
Even if you underwent a traumatic event,
No one will believe you so just don't scream

You are a hysterical woman
He is a kind soul who would never touch a woman if she didn't want it.

All this evidence adds up in our minds but in theirs, she is HYSTERICAL.

A girl is *****, but wait for the punchline
Except it is not a joke,
And it is an actual punch
Hitting her left cheek

As I sit in a coffee shop,
Her story is being played
Through the speakers, while playing on the news
Everyone giving their own opinion

A couple of men sit at the table beside me
The bald one states that she asked for it
My eyes roll as a drop of coffee runs down my chin

The one with a large mustache laughs
States, "her mother was a failure."
The third man ignores his ignorant friends
But instead listens to the young girl's story

Bald one says her clothes were too tight
Mustached one states that the skirt was too short
Her knees were showing
Knees that are now bruised and ******

The third man states that it wasn't the
FAULT OF THE GIRL
But instead the FAULT of the man
He states that a woman should be able to wear
WHAT she pleases
WHEN she pleases

The bald and the mustached nod in agreement
One says that her clothes aren't the problem
The other says that women need RESPECT

As a woman, covered head to toe walks past
The men stare, except the third
Because it is not the woman's fault
And he understands that

But it is the FAULT of men
Who "cannot control it."

There once was a happy girl
But this happy girl disappeared around 13
When I slowly realized
That when people were laughing,
I was being laughed at and not laughed with
That I was not good enough
And that I was only going to be a joke
Boys constantly reminding me that my body
My body would never be good enough for them
And shouldn't be good enough for myself
I finally found a boy that accepted me
Only to find out that, because I hated myself
He believed that I would be an easy ****
He left bruises behind
But the bruises weren't on my skin,
Instead, left on my brain
Someone can touch me the wrong way now
Where I feel all of the emotions
Hand on my knee, hand on my thigh,
Hand on my waist, hand on my stomach
And I can instantly go blank
Like a soulless doll

*** I walk down the street
I get terrified if I see someone staring
Or just looking at me odd
I feel like I am walking around
With a target strung around my neck,
Being pulled tighter on my throat
I feel like I am being suffocated
By my own fear

Ashes fall from the sky
And as I lay on my back,
They land on my body
My face, torso, and legs
Becoming covered

Ashes of past dreams and wishes
All going up in flames
But that is not the end

The world wants me to watch it burn
Making me drag my feet
As I watch everything I've loved,
Fall to pieces
Showing me how much everything
Really means to me

As I lie awake in my bed,
I remind myself of all my stupid mistakes
How I could've avoided them and fixed the situation
My mom said not to use the word "could,"
Because it is too late to change my past
There is no point in dwelling on it
But if I could go back and redo half,
Knowing what I know now, maybe, just maybe,
I'd be in a better position
Instead of worrying that I'm not good enough
And that I'll somehow be a complete mess

Everything would be different
But I am happy now, and I wouldn't trade that
And if I went back in time and changed things,
I would not be where I am now

As I stare out in front of me,
I see a beautiful creature small and fail
She cannot breathe as the weight of her life is pushing on her chest
And taking the breath from her ever-collapsing lungs
She sees me standing near her
Watching her
And lifts a hand to me
As I take it
Her skin turns pale and her struggle for breath ends
She cannot breathe
For her life has been taken by stress that she did not cause
Her face molds into a frown and yellow paint seeps out of every crevice
And sunflowers find their way into the light
Her lifeless body gives life to happiness and joy
When her life was so sad
And dull
Her wardrobe is being packed away by men who did not even know the girl
It is not their job to know
But to only pack away items of no use
The garments are small enough for a child
But the creature herself had been alive for two decades
She would not let herself eat
Otherwise, no one would love her
Except for the people who love sunflowers and yellow paint