Woman

Woman:

The world rests on your womb and yet you can do nothing correctly.

Feed me...

Fuck me...

Find that..

Wash this...

Work here….

Put on your mask and walk through the day smiling

Shine brightly so no one sees your heart bleeding tears.

Paste that "S" on your chest with glitter glue because someone will need something… all the time

Do it promptly

Do it quietly

Do it well

And...

Do it NOW

Because the time it takes to sort out what you need takes too long.

There are other people that depend on you being your best… always.

But you aren’t, are you?

Woman,

You are the feeling force of creativity that drives the planetary motions and pulls the moon towards the tides.

You are the crumbling mountain that sheds into the sea, renewing itself in fresh waters.

You are the darkest night, wrathful and cruel, emissary to the underworld

Life and death are in your hands, woman.

And yet no one acknowledges the breaking point.

Hating you for your flaws.

Hating you for your efforts.

Hating you for the time it takes to make you better.

And for as beautiful as woman is, she is fragile in many ways.

Her kryptonite is overwhelming.

She camouflages her hurt from the world she walks around in.

She bleeds alone while holding you up with strong hands.

She pains under the pressure and says nothing with a smile.

She dances around the illusions to mask the truth of her deep pain.

Carry on Woman. Carry on with your day. No one will know how you suffer and no one will stop to ask you why. Carry on holding everyone up while you cry. The tears of life that spawn rivers at your feet, feeding the roots that plant your family in the foundation of security.

You are the Life Tree, strong and powerful, beautiful and serene, beaten and washed with the harsh winds of change, and,

Loved and Hated by All.