Woman by Alanoud Zouman

Posted on December 1, 2012 by

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Let’s talk about beauty.

A beauty embodied in one woman. It possessed her at first; began to eat her up day by day.

Eyes of men joined the feast with marvellous scrutiny and she despised what she thought was a blessing.

A symbol of sex; not one with feelings to be felt or thoughts; only her wavy golden hair, her green eyes that told a story of a tree that stood tall, died standing and left its shadow alive to say hello as the sun rose every day.

Lips that didn’t dare speak of words that she knew might turn against her.

She should be thankful for her elegance and gift from god. A curse from Satan she thinks it to be.

Only because she was beautiful in every single outer aspect did she realize that beauty is to be felt, beauty is in the kindness of strangers, and beauty is what you make of it.

She wasn’t beautiful on the inside, she was fragile, and she was one who hated. She was the woman who never was.

Whatever drove her to madness was an image of perfection that she had to live with.

Thin as a stick, hair thicker than her body, but she must have large breasts, her waist had to be sucked in tight, her thighs luscious but never touching.

The pressure of millions of judging eyes; and that’s how she knew she was truly a woman, not a child. She knew it when people judged her not on what’s on the inside but by her status and body.

That’s how she knew she became a woman

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Posted in: Woman