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A girl child
when born
to a family

is

either
seen as

a

burden to be
disposed of

or

too precious a treasure
kept hidden for protection

but

not once considered
as a human being.
Personal experience
 Sep 17 Urvashi
girlinflames
Sometimes,
you need to sing
to yourself—

just to remember
you are still heard.
 Sep 16 Urvashi
girlinflames
do not accept chains
in love

not even the ones
you place
on yourself
 Sep 16 Urvashi
girlinflames
do not accept chains
in love

not even the ones
you place
on yourself
 Sep 13 Urvashi
Bekah Halle
In my need for control,
I became the monster —
They said I drowned,
but the truth is softer:
I laid myself down like an offering.

I spit river into their open mouths.
I bit the lilies in half.

Silk turned cathedral.
I let my dress balloon with river light.

The earth had nowhere else for me.

If you pressed your ear to the surface,
you would have heard me humming.
They didn’t write that part.

When they pulled me out,
I still had violets in my teeth.
I still had the nerve to look alive.

If ruin was the crown they gave me,
I wore it dripping.
I wore it bright.

You think you know the story:
girl, river, grief.

But the water was warm that day.
The sky was a soft ache.
I was tired of carrying everyone else’s ending.

So I wrote my own.

Not drowned.
Not tragic.
Not accepting their ending.
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