when you are a woman you bleed the burden of being one literally within every month and metaphorically every single day you polish the plates clean you cook the cake delectable you plan the garden to grow plants you figure out your figures you beg to be believed you serve to be esteemed you scream to be heard to be seen, to be listened, to speak, to be free you consume the rage given passed and inherited genetically and immanently you are born yet you give birth too being a woman is a revolution