Writing

Stop

Telling

Woman

What

They

Can

And

Can't

Do

This is not ok

You think

Just because

When you were born

And the nurse held you up

Saying,

"It's a boy"

If I love you were the last words that would roll upon my lips, 

Would they find themselves an alter, 

As you kissed my fingertips? 

"Did you finish your homework?",

"Did you do this, yet?",

"Did you take these notes?",

I sit on this bench

The bench that called to me

I do sit on this bench

But what do I see?

For first, there is a bee

It goes buzzing by

I wish I could fly like that

I'd fly way up high

Something I inherited but will not pass on
is knowing there is an absence of affliction;
the madness of the wife of Agamemnon.
An assumption that is long overdue eviction

In darkest nights upon twisted spires, 

Gather, thou devils, saints’ dark desires.

Now hearken here to those cawing knaves,

As this very tale from the grave reclaims.