It isn’t easy,
being born hating yourself.
Banned from traditions,
we adopt others that are more convenient in their evil.
We compromise our ghosts to wither,
instead of being danced around and blessed.
Men go off to war, and the women heal them with their plants.
The other way around works too,
only gender is irrelevant when it comes to wounds.
Well fed men protect, it isn’t anything but, no need to inspect.
The women are the gems,
you can’t leave them vulnerable,
everyone knows that.
Dance until you feel everything.
Revive your strength and pray—
if that word scares you, change its meaning.
Wake to the mist of morning,
run until you can’t see what you’ve been running from.