I am angry that I have to play all of the roles.
I was brought up to be a beautiful woman.
But the weight of work has taken its tole.
And the man I love, I love for love.
My “birth right” — I’ve chosen to forsaken.
It’s something we need to talk about.
The weight of the world leans towards men.
I wish
I was the first born son.
It must be so incredible to be that.
The pain
Of being a woman that cannot reject the tradition of every father that told her to
Wear a bra in the house.
And every man that looks handsome in their old age
And every woman that I put under a microscope
I wish I could see you as beautiful.
Why can’t I see you as beautiful.
