Poetry

How To Fight the War Inside Your Body

War is raging in your body

Oppression of all sorts under your skin

The same that tore your mother down

and your sisters, too.

The same that will break your daughters

because you have not been taught how to love yourself

but everything outside of your own.

 

Yesterday,

down to your birthskin and into immersion,

water resuscitated all of your unjustified guilt.

Bathroom mirrors scrutinized more than just your upper body

You fought

And you lost

Crumpled to pieces at your own reflection

–  not enough strength to pull yourself from the shame

Not enough will you hold your head high

and look you in the face.

 

You have long made excuses for this repression

Worn it like a crown upon your head

Adorned it with your diamond tears

Deified it

Even given it face

And form

Given it home inside your most sacred places.

 

But if you will wake

Give yourself some of this love you give to others

You will find an army sitting inside of you

ready to help you extract freedom from any kind of oppression

You will be done fighting

Because you will love

And you will heal.

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Poetry

For women who have suffered death at the hands of a delinquent society

The door didn’t bang itself, I did

I was sick of its silence

Tired of it not making any sounds

like it was okay with its mediocre life

of no one wanting the noise;

the irritating sound of a talking door

of yakking hinges

disturbing a sleeping society

 

You see,

This is exactly why I banged the door

So I can finally stir the peace;

greatly annoy the insides of reckless autocrats;

of dictators, self-ordained monarchs of being

 

Society slinks within us,

not sleeping,

Introducing some forms of darkness

that we accept because we ourselves

have no idea how lit we are,

burning, with some fierce fires of our own

So we die.

 

Like ten years ago when I wouldn’t

wear anything that exposed my shoulders

A bone stretched beneath my neck,

so long and deep, it was called ugly

 

Like ten years ago when being skinny

meant I couldn’t have friends

I wasn’t attractive enough

Not woman enough

 

Like ten years ago when preposterous doctrines

stitched my lips and forbade me to speak my mind

 

Like ten years ago when I was okay dying

so the world could be at peace with its venal self

 

The door didn’t bang itself, I did

I have started fitting

all the clothes that were labelled loose

 

So today, when a man walks up to me

and tells me I am showing too much flesh

I can say fuck off

I thought you said I had no skin

That I was not desirable enough

That I couldn’t wake a man

because I myself was one

 

Society pours its weight on us,

burying us,

freeing itself of its insecurities

We are left struggling

under some insane law

which hasn’t even been passed

 

The door didn’t bang itself, I did

I realized the space my silence had caused

had labelled me a woman with no voice

No color

No self

 

The door didn’t bang itself, I did

One day I woke up

Spotted a society that never sleeps

Never cooks its own food

Does nothing

Just eating

Leeching…

 

Author’s Note: Many thanks to my writer friend @amegaxi for helping me edit this piece.

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