It’s cleansing – the way the rain falls
Dampens and thickens clothes to my soul
now, I can cover myself like others
But / my twisted tongue prays
and the valley crumbles boulders on my shoulders
That only a man should carry.
then he despise me for not wearing skirts
Uphold other women for their softness and high heels
as I scratch the skin off my feet
for following his wide path and narrow view
That even he abandoned when he realized
it was a crooked way.
maybe he didn’t hear my cries of SOS
Or maybe he just wouldn’t admit
He couldn’t swim.