Outspoken, Headstrong, Opinionated

Titles that I later learned

Were not praise,

But meant to silence my thunder.

 

How dare I, a young woman

Feel something?

How dare I have the nerve

To share a thought,

That isn’t small and dainty.

 

I’m supposed to be a dandelion

In a field of landmines.

For too long, I listened.

I swallowed my dreams,

Suffocating in my own muteness.

 

It was better to be quiet and adored.

Pretty little girls don’t raise

Their voice or speak up

When the men are talking.

For too long, I choked back my own words,

As they filled my lungs,

And this pretty little girl

Struggled to breathe.

 

But no more.

I have discovered my voice.

And it will take more than

A thousand landmine fields

To shut up this dandelion.

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