A poem from Scowl’s Kat Moss for International Women’s Day

If you Google the word bias you would find the definition, “prejudice in favour of or against one thing, person, or group compared with another, usually in a way considered to be unfair.”

I don’t want to use precious words to delicately tip-toe around a phenomenon that – while I proudly do not want to admit it – seriously affects me. On the other hand I find it daunting and unlike myself to write an essay calling out my pain.

So I decided to write a poem.

The Same

I did everything I wanted with my eyes full of stars and it wasn’t enough.
The devil on my shoulder wants to cut me a deal,
He says I could hang it up and avoid the pain I feel.
Your eyes cut like knives and your words leave exit wounds, but is it even your fault?
You never knew better anyway.

So I’ll make space for the pain and misunderstanding, continue my performance, and recoil when my wounds cut too deep.
Yet, I feel nothing changes.
“Fake it till you make it” I repeat, I affirm.
Still nothing changes.

When you break the silence do you wail about the same nightmare I do?
These are the things I avoid writing about.
I made space for the stars, space for the devil, and space for my battle scars.
Are you embarrassed by my pain too?
We participate because we are different, but was I ever allowed to be this different.

This is my pain unabridged, but it’s not the only thing I have left.
I see colors and stars and I meet angels who heal my scars. This is what makes me – my nightmares and all.
Still the same, nothings changed.
Has it ever occurred to you when you look up? We see the same stars, lick the same wounds, and share the same nightmares.
We are the same, nothing's changed.

Scowl's debut album How Flowers Grow is out now.

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