I am a woman.
I’ve got full, pink lips
and pretty eyes,
soft, smooth skin
and a delicate frame.

If only you knew.

My full, pink lips
hold back a scream.

My pretty eyes
shed enough tears to end the drought.

My soft, smooth skin
has been black and blue.

My delicate frame
violated.

But nobody wants to see that.
They don’t want the truth,
they want the desirable woman.

The one who smiles and says she’s okay.
The one who is so good at pretending
everything is okay
until it is.

So I wake up every morning,
put on something pretty,
apply some makeup,
and do my hair.

I hide who I am,
and pretend
because I am a woman.