I became less involved in
what I looked like
and more invloved in
what I felt like.
As young women we are taught not to talk too much.
Don't share too much.
Not too many opinions, no.
We are taught to care more about our hair
then the words that are censored from our speeches
women should be fragile, quiet, and tamed, yes.
But don't worry, I won't beg too much or ask for your attention, no.
My words will DEMAND your attention.
Less base and more
Less blush and more
My "perfect shade" is the one in which you stand under to hear my cracked lungs BELLOW my thoughts aloud.
I found myself in the words of women who are too afraid to speak for fear of being called
in place of
I discovered the world has less to do with beauty
and more to do with words, but when left unspoken we become phantom mannequins,
haunted not by what we said in a moment of passion
but by what we didn't say in a moment of hushed silence.
So I speak.
I bark like the bitch I am for all those who are silenced daily, less they be forgotten.
The bitch can stand alone while the Alpha Wolf still needs his pack to lick his paws.
The bitch bites harder. Barks louder.
The bitch is not admired for her fluff but for her honesty.
I remembered what it felt like to speak again, hear the rumbling power of my voice.
Without the blackout bumpers I feel built
beautiful when I speak for those who've lost thier voices
the megaphones of misogyny.
I became less Barbie and more Bitch.
I did not fall for the lipstick traps shoved down our throats to make our words pretty
from the inside out.
Now hear me howl.