The Scars
It's Her, And she is scarred. Behind the perfectly curated smiles, Adored for the polite denials she makes, As if uttering a blunt "No" Is a sin. She was told so Right from the beginning When her feet were little, And her bones were brittle, She was told To nod her head In Acceptance It should always be a Yes With a smile decently faked After all, the world shouldn't know It was ingrained So much so that the guilt trips For every No she said For every stand she took She isn't the good kind anymore Nor the obedient one For she was told All it takes her to live an admirable life Is to be good and obedient And Nothing else. Each time she stood her ground, Oh this is not expected of her Like Ever. How dare she talk back! How dare she deny what's offered! How dare she choose on her own! What will the world think! Honestly, it doesn't matter. For every word she takes, A nasty scar...