Because She Was Born a Battlefield…

I am rebbloging this because it has touched me. The notion that women should be treated as just objects of satisfying mens’ desires fills me to the brim with hate for my own kind…but hate solves nothing, you can rebblog this too and let it be known that women too should be valued for something that what lies beneath their pants.

Belo Writes

Because when I was seven I saw my mother got beaten to a pulp and left with bruised eyes and a shattered house and confidence,
Because my father did not carry the burden of raising sickly children and loitered about and I barely knew him,
Because her happiness he thought he could buy—bring her plastics full of food and vanish from the surface of the earth and forget that he bore children.
Because she was told she amounts to nothing because she was unmarried,
Because she bought me colorful items and I were fag for having a pink shirt,
Because she was 14 and was told her brother could go to school and she couldn’t,
Because releasing fountains of blood like a burst pipe,
Because she was told to be silent in the church and the pulpit is not her place
Because she was called a hoe for having a…

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Dark Room

In this dark room where loneliness resides
Walls are stained in crimson
The murals on the walls lash tongues
Whipping souls wandering in the darkness
These souls keep getting lost
Lurking in darkness
Foraging for bodies slain
A place they once called home
Whispers are heard in the dark room
A language of the cold ones
In this dark room there’s a floodlight
This floodlight is of despair
This floodlight is of apathy
This floodlight is of neglect
Children dumped herein
Motherless children with no identity
Their cries echo hitting the closed windows
The door knob is rusty but still holds tight
The souls of these encaved children roam freely
Attempting to free themselves
Free themselves from the walls society erected