They say Eve was the fruit emerged from Adam, they say it is the women who always had her hands at fault.

​

The number of the stars are countless, the accusations are simultaneous. The ego that cannot be buried, neither your soul that lushes against the shameful acts.

​

They say it is the women who always gather attention, the body isn't naked. Your souls are, your minds are.

​

The transmission of anger and pain is all soaked in the tears of the young.

​

They say you are associated with the colors of the dark, anger, persuasive powers. They say your color is Red.

​

The soft, vagile colors of the pink toys are nothing but a patriarchy being bought up-to you. The Shorts that you wear, the skin that you flaunt, the magnificent appraisal of the world that is bestowed.

​

They say but they forgot those hands that weaved you. The judgemental criticism that you pass, did you forget the day you were born out of the same?

​

Life will cease to exist, I say. They forgot.

​

They say because they learn. The empowerment for them is the knack of societal pressure. Rise above I say.

​

Feel the infinite, Know the better.

​

They say, we are victims of our minds.