Burn

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Will the eyes of men always w a n d e r
Away from the soul of a woman
Who bears the scars of the wounded feminine?

Who carries a longing to light her fire from within 
As society blinds itself to her beauty?

Will she care enough about getting him to notice her —
Enough that she will hand him the matches
To ignite the flame of her own divine right to be a female? 
The right that never belonged to him?

Will she s i n k into the waters of his patriarchal perception,
His uneducated rejection, 
Which fuels the deception that a woman must fit a certain mold of attraction? No.

She will d r o w n in her own tears 
And let the pain-filled story that brought her here
Be felt
As she stares into the mirror,
Begging her reflection to love her exactly as she is,
Slowly b e c o m i n g

And when she rises from the ashes
Of the fire which burned her sense of self to the ground,

The wind from her own mouth
Flowing through her soft lips
Will reignite 

And burn
And burn forever

Until the whole world sees that she is everything she is meant to be

And his eyes will fixate on the power before him,
The beauty that she is,

The beauty that is a w o m a n.