Wings

You rip thrugh my skin

and  grind my bones

A process of becoming

With my tear filled eyes I wonder

"does a butterfly go through this much pain when it changes?"

I sit here at 23 scared to utter the label woman

Yet my hips are wide

And my breast supple

My tounge used for teasing

Are these not all signs on a woman?

Was that not enough?

Or was it the coal before the diamond?

Must you reveal my flaws and provide me with epiphanies?

Rain before rainbows

Tears before smiles

I never asked for wings but yet here they are.