***Trigger Warning***

Tonight Samantha told a story that sent a chill down my spine 
And it was stereotypical of things that ring true to mine
It was an occasion I’d heard of before
But it was still something I abhor 
A woman just after giving birth
Crying about the way it hurt
And she’s so young, so young
Most of her peers are still having fun
And she’s here delivering a child
Does she get to keep her wild
And I think of the raw way it must feel
A viscerality that is real
And how must it be to be so weak
A vulnerability that simply speak
Mountains of what’s expected 
And all that I’ve rejected 
Til her husband appears on the scene 
He’s not something out of a dream
And she starts to scream 
No, no, stop, stop
And I see myself in shoes I will not 
Concede to wear
How bad was the tear
In the fabric true 
And, yes, I’m asking you
To reach into the store
And somehow be something more 
Coz how is woman treated this way
As if it doesn’t matter what she say
It’s gonna happen regardless 
I wonder would a shard of glass
Serrate the edge
As he puts the head
Of the matter to rest
And does his best to bury himself 
In something else 
As she cries and begs coz the pain
It’s right after a shower of rain
And he is opening the door 
Living like she is the shore 
He is bound to dock
And I wanted a rock
Not a ship with no base
Running like I’m the race
He must fight to get to
But I know it’s all about you
In the winter and in the ward
Eternity, maternity and the sword