The troughs of her wavy hair,
perfectly fitted the grip of his fist.

The more he pulled,
the shorter they grew.

Loved to paint the walls,
with the anything she cooked.

Everyone's got a way to express love,
well not like others his way was a little rough.

He said "I'll love you until I die",
ironically his love was the reason of her demise.

tell me how to strip off this breastplate
and dress myself in pure, lace bodice
washed in all shades of subservience,
when lilith herself taught me
to bare to no man —
bow to no man.

the soil of these lands are built on liberation;
your ribs stake no claim
to what they do not own.
they merely return to dust and ashes —
the very material
of the land you betrayed —
the land you watched burn down,

and i'll tell you this:
this land, it will drift, shake, crumble
to create a catacomb big enough
for all the deaths
you deserve.

honey, this is no prophecy.
this is no threat.

this is justice out of the ribs
of those who'd fallen;
this is justice at the hands of the oppressed.

This is the age.


The age of standing up for yourself no matter what knocks you down.

The age of being a warrior through and through but also knowing it's okay to break down some times.

The age of knowing your worth and accepting nothing less.

The age of power among women, lifting each other up instead of ruthlessly tearing each other down.


There is no sense in stepping on your fellow woman as she is up against the same enemy you are. You know that saying, "the enemy of my enemy is my friend"? Well, let's put that into practice. Let's stand hand in hand with the women beside us because we cannot and will not be trampled. We have strength, worth, intellect, and kindness - the most lethal combination. Don't prove to others that you are powerful, you don't need their validation. Instead constantly show it to yourself. Emulate that bravery and despite what others believe, you will topple even the tallest mountains.


This is the age.

The age of women.





-t.s.

Patriarchy is no glass ceiling
That you can shatter in one half-hearted blow
Or a fragile soap bubble
That you can pop easily with your acrylic nail
Instead it's a concrete roof
Built to trap your soul
To make you feel less of a human
And more of an object
It's a concrete roof with numerous cracks in it
Made by the women who came before us
And the women who live among us
For centuries they have spent their lives
Trying to build those cracks
So that light can enter
In our gloomy fates
And you have to do the same
For the women yet to come
So bring in your hammer, girl
We have some work to do
By some I mean a lot of it
We have to work for nights and days
Until the concrete crumbles to dust
And humanity breathes in free air
But don't you worry or freak out
Cause no matter how tough concrete is
The spirit of women will always be stronger