There must be something unseen
woven into your very being.
What else could explain
how, with so much weight,
you still move with such grace?
Like a weightless ballerina on her toes,
dancing across splintering boards,
running amok on the stage—
untouched, unbroken-
At peace

A woman, she’s a sun, who shines bright in the morning sky.
She also burns herself in this world to take care of her child.
She becomes the light in our life.

She is the one who gives a life of bliss to us.
Her womb is a place where our souls are purified.
She sacrifices her every need, to fill our life with all the happiness in this world.

A woman is the one who is pure like a holy fire.
She is as calm as a full moon in the night sky.
Her heart is like a garden full of beautiful flowers.

Her love for us is like the ocean, so deep.
She completes the life of everyone.
She crushes her soul , just to look after the world.

And like the sky which is large and wide,
Her kindness is something that cannot be measured.
She is as strong as a rock, hard to break.

She is the fire, yes, the fire
Which gives the warmth of love
But also burns and turns the hatred into ashes.
A woman is everyone’s strength.

She is the one who makes our life beautiful.
She herself is life.
And without her, this life of ours is nothing but an echoing void.

When the earth is no longer a womb,
just a shriek and whistle of once uttered prayer—
a long,
puncturing howl of everything
that was once you
turned into casualties of silence,
then you know
that death has arrived,
noiselessly,
silent as a missile.

All the clamor outside-
it’s the hibakujumoku,
(the survivor trees)
insisting on life
within the blast radius
of your heart.

My girl is made from fire and stardust.
She feels like a child of the wind and the rain,
Her wrath—an unprecedented hurricane.
But love her, speak sweet words to her,
And she is the cool breeze on an extra hot day,
The reason you feel like it might be bearable to go out and play.
She’s a light spring shower,
Covering the earth with blooms,
Bringing it all back to life.

Oh, but don’t you dare stand in her way—
She is divine feminine rage.
The storms before—I swallowed them whole,
And now I’m beginning to see
That maybe all of that was to make sure
She had an unshakable roar.
And oh, is it beautiful to see
That no one will stand in her way.

Her words spill like lava,
As steadfast as a bull,
Yet her heart is still so full.
Sweeter than honey—
Until you challenge her storm,
Until you test her form.

And if you do, just know—
I’ll pray
For you
To make it out alive.
Because you see, my girl is made of stardust and fire—
Two untamable things,
Two forces together, unchained,
Burning, rising—
Unshaken, unbound,
Stretching far above and below the ground.

So think twice before you stand at her door,
If you wish  to endure the unfazed wrath
Of all the women who came before.
She is the storm, the flame, the roar—
A force the world will soon learn
Can never be ignored.

He was seething,
but I was finally breathing.

I stood in his shadow for far too long,
mesmerized by his siren song.

I apologized for my words and held my sharp tongue,
while he never did so—I remained overstrung.

I resent myself for having endured so much,
but that's okay, as those were the years of my nascence.

Now, I stand tall in the shadow of my own dignity,
away from the wretched hands of his vanity.

He decays now, murderously slow,
while I relish my freedom forevermore.

He is seething,
I am breathing.