The truth of us

Red string tied around my wrist, tied around yours, can you see the bow? 
My shoulders are sore, tired from the weight of this world 
“You’re just kids, so young”, is what they tell us so then why
Are our hearts so threadbare already…
I’m not the way I was, invisible cuts across this body–
Slowly being healed and new ones being opened and I am told to smile through it all
Because I
am a woman

No one wants to love a sad woman and so we swallow depression 
along with pills and champagne and we pray
That we did not bleed through our dress pants and we try not to cry 
As we are told we are beautiful and asked to send nudes while they measure our skirts, 
These are not as long as your fingertips, WHERE is your self-respect—

Red string tied around my wrist, tied around yours, can you see the bow? 
Tell him you love him, darling, tell her she is your world 
Before your words are stolen
Tell them you’re tired, tell them you’re scared, before
You are told to think before you speak
Tell them your truth, your rights and wrongs and scream
Before they burn, brand your tongue and say “This is mine now”
A broken heart will always make us mad. Sooner or later we will hate you because
We still love you and—
I am told to smile through it all because I 
am a woman 

Call 911 reported assault, two women on the sidewalk, it’s 2 am, they were in sweatpants, 
Probably their ex's hoodies that they stole, and they shouldn’t have been out at that hour, 
that’s when the sluts walk, they were asking for it—
Hoodies. Sweatpants.
A paper will be filed.
Maybe they were just going to the store.
The man who assaulted them will not be searched for. 
A late-night snack, they wanted popcorn and Kit Kats. 
He will not be caught and he will do it again. 
Maybe they were in love and now they will be scarred for the rest of their lives.

Red string ties around my wrist, tied around yours, can you see the bow?
Don’t say you know until you actually know.
I’ve always liked the villains of the stories
Their smiles that say “I know something you don’t”
It’s their own little secret and for them, only them, it means power
I am a woman 
I have too many secrets because I am told to shut up when I am told to speak up
I have seen one boy for every seven girls who are dress coded in my high school
I am afraid of bleeding through my white pants and so 
I raise my hand in math class and am told to wait until he comes back from the bathroom 
Where we all know he’s vaping 

I am a woman 

This is my reality




18 years old

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