For you 

For Women who are told they are

too difficult,

too strong,

too much.

Women who have a closet full of men's white flags that they waved in surrender at their feet.

Who have squeezed

and shrunk

and wilted

to allow room for others to bloom;

left only with petals of "he loves me not" on hard rocky soil.

Women who bare the world on their shoulders in daytime

and collect tears under chins in the dead of night.

You too are worthy

of sweet nothings

and opened car doors.

You too are worthy

of sharing kisses on subway platforms

and holding hands under starless nights.

One day someone will come with ruler

and textbooks

and pens

ready to learn how to love you,

all of you.