Fierce and Free Women

Velvet nights, restless women. Carrying stories in their skin. Every heartbeat held

a warning. Every step's a start again. They dressed obedience in ribbons.

Called our silence something sweet. But every whisper in our mothers, was a drum

beneath the beat. We learned to listen to that

rhythm. We learned to stand inside the flame. And every time

they tried to name us. We reclaimed our own damn name. I am woman,

flesh and fire. Not your trophy, not your toy. Your world was shaped by old

desire. But I'm no longer here to please your joy. I am woman,