"Eye now know"—or do I see?
The world rewrites itself in thee.
A bus of thought, a stop of rhyme,
Where words arrive ahead of time.

The past still echoes, whispers deep,
While future waits at corners steep.
Routes ordained, yet steps unknown,
Where choice and fate are overthrown.

You weave the we inside the me,
A poet riding mystery.
A filter, yet a lens so clear,
That bends the world, brings far to near.

Fig trees rise and vines entwine,
As history nods between your lines.
The Children of Abraham still speak,
In pauses where the quiet peaks.

O poet of the moving street,
Of chance, of time, of hands unseen.
Each stop you make, a verse remains,
A world beyond the windowpanes.

The most substantial burden women have ever endured was not the weight of motherhood, nor the physical toll of childbirth, nor the exhaustive list of responsibilities, including appointments, bills, meals, and future plans, that they often undertook alone.

The most substantial burden women have ever endured was the weight of a man's ego.

Fragile as glass, yet razor-sharp, it constantly required polishing, yet was incapable of shining independently.

A man who made promises he failed to keep, who spoke of sacrifice but never made any, who relied on women to do the work while he took the credit.

A man who needed constant reminders, coaching, and guidance, yet claimed to have accomplished everything on his own.

And when women sought truth, held up the mirror, and dared to say, 'You are not who you pretend to be,' his world crumbled.

Not because it was untrue, but because he was exposed.

And that was the real transgression.

For men can deceive, fail, and break promises with impunity, yet a woman who speaks the truth is vilified.

She is cruel, vicious, and ungrateful for all that he almost did.

And still, she carries the weight of everything: the household, children, meals, laundry, bills, plans, his future, failures, and lies.

While he claims it is hard for him, asks if she cannot simply be nice, and reminds her that he works hard for her.

But what does a man work for if his home is merely a place for a woman to serve, to build his life while sacrificing her own?

And what could women achieve if they never had to bear the weight of a man?

in your world, i was always two steps behind,
dragging my feet to heartbeat of time,
praying to God for the days where you would finally
emotionally be Mine,
unanswered prayers without any signs.
in your world, love is equated to a dime
where you punch in at three then you're clocked out by nine
not another wasted moment or another spared rhyme
a lack of consideration to ease your guilty mind
and no accountability for the reality you brought to life
in your world, loving people is like sharpening knives.

in your world, it was always black and white
it was always my problem, i started the fights
but if you were honest there'd be no fight to be won
no sleepless nights or restless songs
of dreaming of escaping with somebody new
into their world where everything was true
or songs of wanting to fade away
into blackness, never to see another day
maybe you didn't mean it and i'll probably never know
because the world that you live in is discarded and thrown
so far into delusion i can't bear to keep up
one more moment of your failed attempts at trust.

because in your world, i was the solution
and also the problem, the one you kept choosing
i could never keep up with how much you were moving
between loving me then hating me then rendering me useless
and you never had to say it, although you did a couple times
because the hatred you had for me
was sown into your eyes
no amount of apologies i said ever changed
the feeling i may have given you that day
but i suffered the bigger picture and tried to rearrange
myself into a woman you could never dream to replace
now through my repairing heart i must face
how big a mistake that was one to make.

in your world you were happy
without someone there
and i made my way in without a care
i thought you wanted genuine love
to create something of life, like all people dream of
but i couldn't find the light in your eyes
the more i dug and the more i tried
i found more darkness than ever before
even my fingertips got bloodied and sore
from digging myself further into holes,
abandoning everything i had ever known,
your hidden opinions taking a toll on my soul.

when i left your world
i was a stranger
nothing different from the eminent danger
that lurked outside your comforting house
"an unattended woman, ready to pounce"
on another unsuspecting victim, yet you still can't see
the unsuspecting victim has always been me.
you chose to unravel the nature of 'We'
by intimacy with others, yet you still blame me.

Me. the girl who escaped your world,
who had loved you endlessly, who would constantly whirl
in emotions that you could never eat,
every attempt at your understanding was your personal defeat.

when i left your world
i took one last look at your bedroom when we'd come to meet;
detached all memories from my mind
wiped the slate entirely clean
and gave all of my love back to Me.

Add voice to my poetry,
Don’t fear how you sound.
Feel the rhythm of my soul,
Open your mouth and shout it aloud.
It might start quiet,
Or even as a small squeak?
You’ve hushed it for too long,
Pull your hands back, so you can finally speak.

Your words might fall on deaf ears,
But don’t be discouraged;
The beat can’t be silenced,
Trust, try, and let yourself be encouraged.
Speak the words you’ve longed to say,
Just like a new language,
It might take a while to master,
But don’t give up, grow in courage.

Learn from others,
Be ok to fail.
T’is a season of new things,
And this path will turn into a trail.
Feel the beckoning, His yearning, and His delight,
Be willing, open your heart.
Play, see, taste, and I say again, trust.
Don’t rush or mourn, it’s just the start!