A woman is one with her children, no matter the gender.
Yet, a man is only one with his son.
A slight abhorrent connotation, noticeable for a woman, turned the other way for a man.
Societal limitations shape a woman before she gains her title as one.
A daughter is pushed to the ground for playing a “boy sport” at recess.
“That means he likes you.”
What seems like a fine line between abuse and love, is now
tied with a bow in her mind.
Normalization of gender discrimination,
be “ladylike.”
Raised to cross her legs, pull her skirt down, sit up straight, have a smile on, reprimanded if done otherwise.
A woman is made to understand not to be understood.
Her seething erupted like a final chance at salvation.
“Young women should be seen not heard,”
Under judgements thumb, the discovery of a fixed persona came to light.
In the hands of the people, lipstick on a pig was all she was.
The realization of her fabricated reality struck when
she began to reap what was sowed.
Mature eyes watched her every move.
Always on alert
Even a mundane trip to the mall, clutching a purse that smothered her body.
Is that man following me?
Placing car keys into her palm; adjusting the metal in-between her fingers.
Its ok. He turned the corner.
Once a target, she takes the stuffed animal keychain off her mirror
Never again.
A girl signs her life away and is given a ring as her prize.
Beyond her own comprehension, the facade of freedom was all she had.
Locked in a prison of male gaze.
Doomed from the start
Once a daughter now turned wife.
