women falling to their knees

protests stifled in their throats

and yet they would claim equality

lie about a world where i can walk at night

houses keep getting rebuilt but the trauma always stays

it is a part of the soil that makes the bricks that make this country

it is a part of the women that make the soil that makes the bricks that make this country

my fear is mine first

yet they somehow intertwine it with religion, with otherness

but this fear is a collective, it is communal

the monsters of the night do not discriminate

the monsters of the night gain too much confidence

they don’t remain in the shadows anymore

but our fear always does

because how can you be woman without biting your tongue and swallowing blood

how can you be woman without making yourself small enough to digest

my ache is my mother’s and her mother’s and her mother’s and her mother’s

it runs in the bloodline

and despite this sacrifice everything becomes about god

we are no strangers to nightmares that follow us even when we are awake

and there are still prayers made to a god that doesn’t listen

his arrogance increases as his interest in this place decreases

if i am accidentally safe for one day, they thank god

and on days when i’m not, they beg him to protect

but protection is for things you care about

protection means you love

but the only thing he could love is watching our misery

watching us disintegrate into shame and fear and nothingness

because after all you have to be nothing to be woman

and they make our screams heard and voices silenced

it is quite the contradiction

living locked in our houses for the fear and still having our souls crushed

and i am scarred in the name of a loving god

knees bruised

tears down throats

biting down tongues

swallowing bile and blood

how can you be woman without being mangled corpses