i was 15 when i opened Pandora's box
I shouldn't have touched the Bible
Maybe I shouldn't have dug my own grave
By rigid discipline I was made to recite verses
Know God, don't be afraid to find the truth
What is? What is?
And I go deeper of where does it leads
Dear God, the form in itself is a mirage
When I was 15
I swear I recited them page by page
From Genesis to Revelations,
I know the Alpha, the Beta and the Omega
And it wasn't the Jews
Soon the promised land is a license
To fly missile bombs in Palestine
The Philistines and the Gentiles
I was a lie
I was formed by it with a promise
My vow soon offered a challenge
That faith is a philosophy
To question one's own
Soon, I was taught to shatter the mirrors
Watch the broken glass in pieces
The prestigious image I kept
Is nothing if left in neglect and disgrace
I was 16
I shouldn't have met a teacher well-versed
To introduction in philosophy
With this young mind infatuated by the Universal
Plato's Capital and essence
Come, Aristotle, I'll meet him in college
It goes on to touch the greater depths
Of sobriety worse than innocence
Life is a bit too hollow
To find out I'm running in circles
Life is a bit more keen now
Where I can feel injustices
By the casual mention of it
Through the lips of the people I know
Should I trust what I know?
Or leave these thoughts alone?
At 17, I met the women
I met them,
I wanted to know them
They taught me of more, and more
I hated beauty then
My face conditioned to please
The eyes of men
For like Esther
It plays over and over again
By birth, a woman's beauty
Is a social currency
To be elevated in status
But a woman's mind and truth
Is a fickle nature patriarchy wants to shut down
My eyes, you see, dear God
Has vision sharper than my mortality
It's a discomfort sometimes
That I'll have to slow down in order to live
Lest, and only lest, they'll deem me crazy
I'm not a prophetess, dear Lord, I assure you
But I know concepts, should you ever tell me
What existence means
And it was all a lie
If you ever reached 25
To be young is a license,
To be reckless, dumb and ignorant
But by the time you reached adulthood
Dear God, how can I ever reconcile with You?
I present you my life
And I walked on to this thread of life
Tiptoe by tiptoe, I walk in eggshells
But I'm not afraid,
Broken and fixed once more
Once unaware, blissful and innocent
Sobered thoroughly of this pending burden
What should I do then?
But to carry on, carry on
Those before me did not die in vain
And I shouldn't too
If I ever find a young woman like me
A young girl like me
At 15, 16, 17
My dear girl
It is what it is
We have our own foes
It starts with the burden
To be beautiful and bear your silence
Smile with a bit of grace
Please the eyes of men
Bow in obedience
For you are your Father's daughter
Walk in high stilletos,
The shoes that kill your toes
In the name of beauty and acceptance
Cover your face with caked thick foundation
Thicken your eyelashes with mascara
Be pretty, my dear girl
And always play dumb
Never bruise the ego and the minds of men
Lest you'll be fired from your job
If being yourself holds you back
That you honestly see foolish men
With utmost contempt
So are the women before you
But they were punished and burned at stake
They were named witches in Salem
Here's what we know, my dear young woman,
Do not cross a man whose pride is lofty
He'll never hesitate to lay his hand on you
You'll see a man's violence
If he chokes your neck out of immediate anger
And he was your intimate partner
In this day and age,
You'll see what casual misogyny means
If you talk back and the man walks fast
At you
In a single second, you'll receive a slap
From a stranger's hand
And that was a man
If you know too much
These men call you a strong personality
Someone they hate, someone they'll demonize
Patriarchy will shame you and call you a leftover
Just because you refuse to be with a mediocre
Poorly bred pig
He prefers the naïve 18
Someone too easy to have his cocky head
Stroked
Like a fellatio
Of his wimpy dick
My dear young woman, don't be afraid
To refuse, say no
If they'll shame you, tell them to fuck off
And live your own life
Than to be murdered
By their hands
Just because they couldn't have you
Any other way around
You will know better, my girl
And I trust you better than these scums
You will soon learn along the way
What Virginia Woolf means when she said,
"Beauty is an accident by birth."
And it is,
If you ever realize it's a prize money
For the society where women
Is always treated as a precious commodity
Her body, her existence objectified
Rather than a person of equal footing
Trust me, I've been there
How I wished I can just forget these
But I was taught to sought the truth
Therefore, I cannot settle for less
And perhaps I should never be
And I hope every young girl should too
