Ever so loud your tongue waved–
it loose and uncaring
towards the throat of my being
and what I once loved about myself
escaped from its cage of certainty.

I don’t have say in some parts of myself–
the cells of personality placed wildly, by condition,
in uniquely patterned boxes
with wire attached to my ring finger;
holding my life ransom since youth.

Segregated from my own instinct
before introduction of nurturing;
I show muscle in my eyes
but my heart it weeps and loudly cries:
worth was never stuffed behind my seams.

If you had ever been me,
If you had innocence stolen before it could be worn in–
You’d understand my hesitance of any dark room or empty promise–
any unlit area in life leaves me suffocating with fear
that I will not return as the woman I gave birth to inside.

There is a siren, ringing in my ears, with every man,
every word slapped against my back,
every assumption that one makes,
every silent eye;
It calls like a hound that can sniff out the smallest inconsistency in strong bone.

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