L’essenza che mi mancava

He says I am more beautiful

When I am angry

I say

I have been angry my whole life

One day rage will line my face

Then, will you still see the beauty

Of my fight?

My lover is alone in seeing beauty in my anger

I do not always see it myself

I’m not sure if it’s rage, despair, or compassion

I feel tear through my stomach

When I think of my mother being teased for her eyes

When she was so small

Now she is so beautiful

And her anger comes with it all

Are we more allowed to be angry

Than other women

because of our faces?

Because of our skin?

Because we have so little power

Or is it because

you do not worry that we will win

Are we punished for being angry

Because you do not want us to grow

To be beautiful and angry

They will be more likely to listen

You know

Are we mocked when we age into our anger

The hysterical mother

Or bitter old hag

It’s infuriating to see your power

Wain with age

While his burns bright and beautiful

Aging like the sun throughout the day

Ending vibrantly beaming