Cracked ribs. Broken bones. Dry meaningless words.

An ocean of emotion. Is this what depression feels like?

Oh. I just assumed that this was normal life...

Feeling suffocated and drowning in a cloud of negative demons.

A sleepless slumber.

Choking on air you can't seem to breathe,

Shuddering away from a loving hand.

The quiet in the dark before the storm.

Forever lonely, yet knowing you are not alone.

But that dark place, you like it there.

It’s so familiar.

It's why you don't want to leave it behind,

In the past, where it belongs.

Walking down a well lit street, clad

In plain jeans and a t-shirt still being whistled at,

Like some plaything, or a piece of meat.

I am a face in the world with standards set by everyone else

On who I should be and what I should (or not) be doing.

like cooking, cleaning, always look  presentable

Stick thin with no marks that mention my battles,

Or the body fat and purple stretches upon my skin.

Tons of make-up, a mask, to hide my unclear skin

And the pain within.

A mask. Exactly, what I show to everyone who

Isn't in my circle. Smooth, elegant, perfect skin.

Shaved legs and shaven everything else.

Depending on a man yet  independent of him all at once.

But I am just me.

I am a strong warrior.

I am a woman.

Yes I feel hesitant about my self-image, but

That doesn’t  make me a piece of meat that man can devour.

That does not make me anyone's plaything.

I am girly, and I like to feel pretty,

Loved,

Beautiful,

But I do not need to succumb,

I need not be in complete submission.

Because I am a woman.

I am enough.

I am woman.

female.

female.

she.

she.

woman.

woman.

Men already snatched

everything

from women.

Our dignity,

strength,

pride,

respect.

“Don’t be silly. You know women only dress up for men.”

“Why do you need to study? You’re going to marry a man.”

“Honey, don’t lift the heavy tables. You’re going to be pregnant some day.”

Never even said I wanted a baby.

Yet, for some reason, it was expected that I was going to carry a child,

Just because my body is capable.

I am much more than the ability to reproduce.

I am a woman.

But why are we defined as man + something?

female.

she.

woman.

Why have men invaded even our sense of self?

The books can explain the logical origins, but still,

I’ll never understand.