First, we are born that woman, 
we are born on a pink celluloid
of written script our future already decided/written.
We are born inside a dungeon,
masquerading as a castle,
surrounded by jailers,
who pretend to be serene
whilst reminding us 
that this is where we belong.

We are born with the delusions of the other (in masculine)
with obscene fevers and impossible chills.
We are born in false monthly new bibles easily sold in any kiosks
which seduce with human freedom to ensure female submission.

We are born dressed and shod,
already thought and opined,
already lived and deceased.
We are born slaves in this feigned freedom.

We are born asleep
in a world that appears to be ours
but in which  mirrors do not return our reflection.

We are born drugged,
susceptible to opiates that consensually bend us
but whose withdrawal symptoms reveal
that what was pink,
is just a veneer of a cloudy chipboard;
that our castle actually keeps us captive;
that those delusions stealthily infect our sixth senses
that those female bibles
they corset us in women who were never born.

And then, that woman fights to be allowed to be a woman.
Fights to allow herself to be a woman.
That woman battles for our space and fights for our history,
burns palaces and plague jailers.
She is inoculated against the plague of oppression
and the evil of segregation
and screams out her own narrative

Veronica Ruiz Morcillo is a poet based in Brighton. Originally from Spain, she writes poetry in both Spanish and English. Her work has been featured in anthologies such as Fck the Patriarchy*, Poetic Sexploration, and We Do Not Need Permission to Rise. She has also collaborated with a Scratch Night at Salford Arts Theatre, bringing her poetry to the stage. Most recently, she published her solo poetry collection, I Am My Own Prince Charming.

Notes: This poem was published in "F*ck the Patriarchy: a poetry anthology"