Do you want to believe?

Do you hear the way she screams

as he rips the dress from her pure beautiful skin.

Leaving her underwear at her ankle;

her dignity on the pavement;

and taking her purity along with him.

Do you want to believe?

Do you see the bruises on her skin?

The poorly disguised

black, blue, red marks

that somehow highlights the

pain in her eyes.

Do you want to believe?

Do you smell the alcohol on her breath?

Her way of coping with the burdens

of being a single mother,

working two jobs, raising three kids,

so she has no time to stop and think.

Do you want to believe?

Do you taste the light,

fluffiness of freshly baked bread?

Flawless and beautiful because she spends

so much time in the kitchen,

because the world has

somehow found a way to make

vagina and housewife synonymous.

Do you want to believe?

Do you feel the burden

of being a woman in a man's world?

Can you sense the difference in the way

we view a woman in a high place

compared to a man?

why?

why must we worship the successful woman

as if it is something so out of the ordinary?

we might want to believe that when we

see those in high places being celebrated

that it is an accomplishment

but it is an insult as it implies

that she is somehow a rarity.

That women are not meant to be on top

and the few that do should be revered.

we need to stop using our senses to merely observe

and turn them into weapons that can be used to

fight the insensitivity that society has towards women

we need to see that there are women

fighting to survive Afghanistan

we need to hear the cries of those in abusive relationships

we need to feel the pain of our sisters

who are being mutilated in parts of Africa

we need to taste what those who are hungry

are being forced to eat

and smell the blood of the lives lost

all because we weren't about to use our senses.