The walls tighten around her

breaking her ribs and smothering the life out of her

She feels suffocated

in the land of don't and shouldn't

where the road is planned

where a woman cannot stand up to a man

where all that lies before her

is a husband and a child

She fails to find herself

She believes in dreams and fairy tales

She covets freedom and choice

There is so much she wishes she had

There is so much she wishes she knew

Her dreams are seeds planted in her soul

They grow within her, sprout flowers that bloom

They grow in tangles of lustre and beauty

They grow for so long, until it seems like they envelop her,

until she feels as though her soul is threatening to outgrow her

as though her hopes will overflow and drown her

 

Then she hears it

 

A voice tells her she cannot.

It says she is not enough.

It speaks of traditions and restrictions.

It says she is mad.

It tells her to give up.

She refuses to succumb to orders

She refuses to obey

Her dreams trample the voice

 

Until they don't

until she hears that voice becoming her own

until the waters within her begin to recede

until the fight can no longer be won.

Her voice echoes loudly inside her ears

berating her, building walls inside her soul

It screams, "conform or be lost!"

 

The choice was never hers,

the fight not one which could be won.

Her soul diminishes,

she gives up.

She walks a straight path,

never swayed by the futility of dreams