March poem sounds like

March poem sounds like:

“You walk with nowhere at all to be
These streets are always changing, rearranging, shifting and moving
Slipping in between your fingertips
Strangers appear to be talking to themselves
Uninhibited by what surrounds them
And as you catch your reflection in the shop window
You notice elaborate wedding dresses, middle eastern jewerlers, shisha bars and hipsters with plenty of time on their hands
The sun caresses the back of your neck
You haven’t moved through your body in a long while
And your routine is something you hardly  recognise
Your menstruation is getting you down
And your parents are sure to frown
At your blatant honesty and the things in life that don’t come free
Love is not a winning game
And I am not a prize to claim,
But a woman of the world you see
Not bound by your perception of me
I am finally learning to speak my mind
So he won’t ever treat me that unkind
Or disrespect the parts I love or hate
The temple, the sanctuary I create.”