Night After Night

I eye my reflection,

in the stained mirror

standing tall before me,

it is all but beautiful.

 

Beneath my narrow

body structure

and pale skin,

lie voices too morbid

to be vocalized.

 

I am no superwoman,

nor am I a friend.

Yet I surrender this

fragile body,

to wealthy strangers

night after night.

 

I can all but fight.

And so I am

victim to misogyny,

night after night.

 

My husband

once told me,

you’re a woman,

so stretch your arms

towards nothingness

and gladly accept

what is thrown

upon your arms.

 

Silently,

he whispered,

you’re but a puppet,

and the world your puppeteer.

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