i was born to feel. i was born in
vulnerability and heartache. i was born
to know grief in my bones.
i was told to perform. i was told that
my pain made me unlovable. well,
who would want me if my sadness was
displayed, plastered on my face, through
salt and acid, for everyone to see? it’s
macabre, the sight of a lady crying.
silly child, if the shoe doesn’t fit, do you not know to carve your skin till it does?
it’s always your fault,
has no one already taught you that?
now, i am angry.
i am angry and i am furious and
i fear i’ve gone mad.
maybe womanhood is a begging to be heard,
and, girlhood, to be believed. maybe we’re all
just aimlessly reciting prayers because
we know nobody will listen.
but how else are you supposed to act
when you were a woman at eight
and a girl at seventeen?
Asea is a writer who wishes to, through her work, depict themes such as girlhood, longing, and love in a way so heavily influenced by emotion and passion. When she isn’t writing, she may be watching a show she has seen a hundred times in the past, reading five books at once and forgetting all their plots, or blasting music in her room at midnight.