Skip to main content

Why Must I Hide?

This poem reflects on the silent struggles women endure and the scars they carry—often hidden—yet powerful in their strength and resilience.


Why must I, a woman, tuck away each scar,
Keep battles buried, no matter how far?
Does it shrink me, weaken my worth,
To wear these marks of the wars I've birthed?

I’ve seen these boys with heads held high,
Boasting of strength if a fever goes by,
Or chest out, proud, from some shallow scrape,
While I’m asked to silence each wound, each ache.

They tell me to smile, not show the cracks,
As if my pain’s a burden, or grace I lack.
Yet I’ve stood through storms that would have them yield,
Facing each fury with no sword or shield.

Why should I pretend, cover the truth,
When I faced battles alone, in my youth?
Every scar I wear is a badge, a name,
A testament, not of shame, but flame.

So no, I won’t hide or cast them away—
These marks are proof of the dues I pay.
I’m woman, I’m warrior, wounded but whole,
Bearing tales of courage, wearing them bold.


How do you feel about the scars you carry—both visible and invisible? Do they tell your story of strength and survival too?

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

The Spotted Cucumber

  One fine day, tired of "always my way," I reached for comfort, or maybe just a craving. Picked up a spotted cucumber— Seemed harmless enough, so why not? But the moment I touched it, it pricked. Unwanted timber in my hands, Yet I let it be—what else could I do? Hunger led me to peel its layers, Only to find the filth it hid underneath. Worms writhing where freshness should be, Rot, disguised as something nourishing. I thought it was doing me a favor, But all it did was make me sick. Never knew comfort could leave such a taste— Bitter enough to spill my guts out. Next time, I’d rather reach for something rich, Something warm, indulgent, and worth my time. A smooth, chocolaty éclair— Rather than ever go for such a comfortable, unhealthy affair.
Post a Comment
Read more

Us Two

  As the hands struck two… Can you feel my hands on you? The power of the universe with just us two I am so into you. Who’s counting the minutes? Only we know what we brew. Even if the world fades to dark, We shine brighter in our spark. Your lips brush my nape, Undoing the shyness of my drapes. As your fingertips trace me, I melt like that slice of brie.
Post a Comment
Read more

Temptress

  I wanna be your temptress, Get you down on my mattress. You be the king, I'll be your empress. I already have a clear purpose, You can trace every curve and surface. I've got one mission for you— Are you built for the secret service? Let me take a bite of that apple, Can you make me pray without taking me to the chapel? They call me a wolf, but I will bear your saddle, Make me howl like the moon's lone disciple. Either play this like a boring game of Scrabble, Or get your armor on and be ready for a passionate battle.
Post a Comment
Read more