I could not coordinate my complexities,
As this uneven number found in your figuratives,
Not measured in equal form of femininity,
As your frailty whispers in based forum finds.
Silence in my solitude saves me,
My gender not usual in your common casuals,
What fear would forsee me in your insecurities,
My concerns are no criminal to your wants.
What mean they to you my mad words,
Were they no roses ripe for red days,
Green in the envy of empathy loathed,
Were they fired hues of the hostile kind?
This poem can be read on poetry.com – http://poetry.com/poems/252446