woman

they tell you when you're two that you're terrible
and when you're twenty that you're young

and they keep telling you that you're beautiful
til it tastes bitter on the tongue

they tell you that you're smart when you do well
and successful when you're all done

but you never finish blooming
more like a burning red sun

and all you can really hope to do
when the purples hit the peaks
is keep being whatever you were
in the midst of sorting out what it means to be

so i'll tell you that you're achingly limber
at the soul and of the spirit
to the point that you more than withstand

you'll be all the world at once
the water and the sand

so woman, keep on flailing
and woman, don't stop yelling
and please don't stop your loving
and hold on; it's all or nothing

so woman, the world can't break you
if you're all the world in one
no matter what they ever told you
you burn brighter than the sun