there is power in being a girl
but there's also sadness
                            struggle
                    ­        anger
                            uncertainty
and most of the time it's hard to find strength in being a girl
except in knowing that the sisterhood is rising,
we're coming,
a force to be reckoned with
and nothing to stop us

there is power in being a girl
and there is also inevitability

You touched the dark side of my moon
And you set it on fire.
You were born into the dark side
But who doesn't crave for the light?
One fleeing glimpse. Your eyes met mine.
Our hearts tumbled and then lost.

You loved me mad, and they say I was out of
my mind.A Lady and A Peaky Blinder.
Decadent, romantic, roses meet guns
My pretty face was the glamorous facade,
Standing behind me was you with uncleaned blood

You said I was a lady. Your lady.
High society's darling sweetheart.
They have never seen the devil
Until an angel tears off her mask.
0.3 calibre, Louboutins in check, rouge
on my lips, warm crimson filling my pond.

La Reina. The Queen. They whisper
little birds travel far on the backstreets
Just you see.
In love and revenge
I am always more barbaric than men.

For all of us who have bashed ourselves numb
trying to be there
(for our brothers)

For all of us who have locked our hearts inside
settling with a joke
(for our fathers)

For all of us who have loved them more than ourselves
more than we could handle
(for our men)

For all of us who keeps putting our friends before us
always coming last place
(for our loved ones)

For all of us whose hearts are out there, feeling with everyone
trying to save strangers with one look
(for our fellow humans)

For all of us who can have amnesty and forgiveness to all others
seeing their imperfections as beauty
(for everyone besides us)

For us
We will learn
We will sympathize
We will passionately love ourselves
more than we have loved anyone else

At last
we will free ourselves

I am a girl
Growing into a woman
Puberty and adolescence
constantly strike my mind and body
and there's nothing
I can do about it

My hips curve out wider
than before
My chest is shaping
into something bulkier
My face seems to get spots
that creme's don't even reduce
My hormones roller coaster
through my mind
and the oestrogen in my blood cells
makes my heart beat

It makes my heart beat
Affectionately,
for those who think
that I'm weak
For those who think
that I'm lame
For those who think
that I'm stupid
For those who think
that me bleeding
through my ****** is disgusting
yet they forcefully *** my body
without my consent and think
that it's fine

How can periods be as disgusting
as ****?!
Hiding my pad
in my underwear is more than enough
Now locking the fact that I was *****
in my mouth and keeping it
as a very dark secret
might just be too much to hold in
I don't have the strength
to shut my lips about
my crying soul,
the same way
that I don't have the strength
to keep hiding my femininity
God granted me such characteristics
and it'd only be disgraceful
to have an imperfect human
shame His works

The striding hips
that you get attracted to
are the very same ones
that bleed my purity
The very same opening
is the one that the men
of this world ****
How can you be disgusted
by my something so natural
and not by something so violent?

The feminine body
is one that you shame
and have the guts to diss
The feminine body
is the one that you ****
and have the audacity to try and silence
The feminine body
is the one that gave birth to you
and you still have
the guts to undermine it
as inferior
Who do you think you are?

Don't cash crop my temple
Don't **** my body
Don't harass my soul
Don't call me names
Don't judge my figure
AND DO NOT
believe that you're more dominant
than me
because we're both human
and we're both equal beings

I am just a girl
A very beautiful girl
with a smile that's as consoling
as night
A body as beautiful
as the sunset
Eyes as bright
as the moon and the stars
A scent as indulging
as a rose
Skin as smooth
as the fine threads of silk
And a voice
as blissful as the sound of a singing canary

I am a female
I am a girl
I am what you're not
So cherish me

To the women who dismantled the world
with their bare hands
just to build it up again.

May we know them.
To the Eleanor Roosevelts,
to the Marilyn Monroes.
To our mothers
and our grandmothers

May we be them.
Women who speak with fire
and revel in the flame,
who shatter the glass ceiling
and dance around the broken shards.

May we raise them.
To our sisters
and our daughters.
To the women who came before me
and all of the girls who will come after.

Here’s to strong women.

They don’t know what it’s like,
To be in fear as they walk down the sidewalk,
With their keys in their hands, ready to defend themselves.
They don’t know.

They have no idea what it feels like,
To be watched,
With lustful eyes, going up and down their body,
They have no idea.

How could they know?
That every day they would need to survive,
Through the comments and the grabby hands,
How? Because they aren’t us.

WE know what it’s like,
To fight for our right,
To survive in this judgemental world,
WE know.

They don’t have everyone question them,
About their attitude,
About their virtue,
About their weight,
About their life.

They don’t get those **** cat-calls,
No, they are the ones doing them.
They don’t get their drinks spiked,
No, they are the ones doing it.
They don’t get harassed, every day,
No, they are the ones doing it.

Young, old.
Tall, short.
Small, big.
They don’t care.

We are alone.
We stick together.
We are SURVIVORS.

Help me.
Her cry could be
Heard over
Hills and
Hells, and the cries of
Heathens and
Harlots and ******.
His lips smacked
Hard against each other, already tasting
Her.
His tongue
Had already anticipated
Her neck, the neck that protects
Her voice, the voice that was stolen by cries for
Help, over and over and over again
He invaded
Her body, but crushed
Her spirit, and speared
Her soul.
He didn’t steal
Her virtue.
He stole
Her light.
He smothered it with
His body, covering every inch.
Here is the story of
Her and
Her daughter and
Her daughter’s daughter, and every woman that ever lived.

Here is
Her story.

There was dancing at the funeral;
wild, wind-swept and whirling.
A testament to a life spent unfurling sails and fighting for a better future.
"She was a doctor, your mama" as if I didn't know. "One of the first to say,
'Man, stop calling me a girl,
I'm a professional
and hell, I'll swear like one too.'"

She started her family in this city,
and made every borough within arms reach.
Patients were closer than cousins,
and my aunts spent less time here than the women's wing of the ACLU.

Black is not a way to mourn, but to warn.
A message shouting "Stand clear, this soul is moving on."
Best prepare afterlife, cause this one made a difference here,
and she'll sure-as-**** start something over there.