At a young age she learns the futility
of speaking out loud.
No one will notice
no one will care unless
He repeats her
claiming the thought for his own.
So she sits in the corner and watches
almost too afraid to dream
dreams, she has realized, rarely come true
Happy Endings do not exist
And she has ceased to dream of The Prince
What is a woman? she often wonders
is it the constant ache she feels
is it the enforced silences and the
do her thoughts–
really not matter
or have people just Forgotten they matter
And did she ever really want The Prince?
Not that she doesn’t want a companion
a lover, but
does she want The Prince?
The Prince is romantic and dashing
He implies danger and rescue
does she need to be rescued?
yes, she’s shy and timid but
won’t The Prince, with his overwhelming presence
just silence her anyway?
Silent and reserved.
Alone, but herself
she waits for rescue yet
is afraid to be rescued
and something is building inside her
something loud, and big, and scary
It builds with every put down
It builds with every insult
It grows louder every time
Until the Something will not
It becomes deafening.
And she hears
And she knows
And she understands that
her emancipation must start from within
it won’t count if she doesn’t
the first step is the hardest
she must open her mouth and