The Inertia of Being a Woman

Homemaker or home breaker?
What do you call a woman who shatters stereotypes,
Flying high through whimsies of unknown realms,
Breaking ceilings of moral pseudonyms,
Threatening the very spine of patriarchal monopoly?

What do you call an atheist of moral principles,
Untying the chains of masculine atrocity?

The soul laments, “I lost my everything.”
Eyes weep, yet I am numb, stoned as a rock.
Breaths fog through lungs,
Hands shiver through memories,

Withering in outrages and mental traumas.
In echoes of pasts and fleeting glances,

I’m an outcast, the forbidden liar,
The Sinner in the ironies of real-time satire.

The silence of nights scares me undeniably.
I sit in attics, staring at the skies, counting hours,
Praying to the giver of life that my eyes never open
To welcome the warm rays of the next sunny morning.
Atop, I rest in peace,

The second inning willfully crafted and tempting.
Oh man, I love thine intoxication,
To avenge on spirits bruised and broken.
I defy destiny’s gaze with every breath,

 My untamed soul, unbroken, unfulfilled
You bet, am I a charmer for life,
A phoenix you can neither take nor leave.

Life half-lived, fantasies blown, dreams shattered,
A smile on the face of this story untold,

Where crimson horizons blaze with a hopeful gleam,

Let privilege outstrip the savagery I’ve seen

Yet I shine with a broken heart and scarred soul,
To my tribe of women, I bow to you,
I owe you my second birth, my gratitude’s due!

-Soumya Chandran is a social media manager, communications executive, and copy editor. She is passionate about storytelling and seek beauty in words, nature, and the depths of human experience.