Woman

My friends think I'm crazy
My mom knows that sometimes I'm lazy 
And I know that I am dizzy, I can't stand the pressure of being expected to be perfect 
I am perfectly imperfect
I am burning escaping man made hell

I am a Messiah that no one believes 
Not even after making my way through their storms 
Not even after building an empire out of their stones 
I am a concrete strong enough to stand for myself

My body is a temple
I hear their boots' crunch violently running towards me
I can't stop running , I am running 
Running from a world that defines me weak
I am running from my body, I'm running from the curves of my hips
I am running from the valleys on my chest
I wish I could rest,  being a woman is not curse
It is a race to Victory
The truth is, I can't deny being me

Dear Mom, culture is a way of life 
I'm afraid some practices have kept me silent for a while 
You and I are victims of stigma
But mama, help me walk through this desert 
Help me recycle the garbage made out of your star
Help me shine my light
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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Jones Avatar
February 13, 2024 at 6:58 PM
Love this it is raw and beautiful
Kazadi Avatar
February 16, 2024 at 12:44 AM
Thanks Karen,
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