Belly

A fifty years old woman is walking down the aisle, tears cascade from her hearts eyes and smiles turn up at the sight of such a wonderful angel, She watches one of her hearts get married and is told that she raised them well.

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A sixty years old woman is watching all her hearts dancing around her little little hearts, she watches and this time she isn't told anything else but a question of how such beauty could come from a petite ugliness.

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A seventy years old woman is resting her hand in her face and wondering what might happen if she gives her heart to the sky, she is told she is being hold tight by her fourteen hearts without letting go.

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A eighty years old woman soon to be ninety is sitting around her hearts, surrounded by her little little little hearts, without such invisible knife in her neck and with more than fourteen hearts holding her tight she is told the worth of living the ugliness to feel the beauty of hearts and pride of her creations.

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My grandmother once told me she has never been kissed with love, the only love she knows is the mother-children love she keeps for her hearts, even when she has gone through hell and back, she remains wise and strong, beautiful with a long white hair and sparkling brown eyes, her lips curve to smile every time she is surrounded by one of her hearts, she gave her heart to keep her family alive, she is my hero and the real representation of women, to me she is the epitome of strength, love and fight.

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Eva is her name and fighting is her game.

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Eva is what Real Representation means to me.

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"This is dedicated to RealRepresentation , because women like my grandmother are the ones who don't get a spot on the newspaper or media, they are the ones who don't get an award for being strong, they are the ones who although wise, smart and fighters never get to tell their stories outside their hearts, those warriors are the #RealRepresentation of women in society"

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ohhh this reminded me of something i wrote for a campaign on wattpad and idk i really liked it, it is called Real Representation

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I met my grandmother when I was two or one day old, I wish I could go back to that day, look at myself and see the naive expression of a clueless girl while meeting her hero.

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My grandmother is now 89 years old, has white snow hair and brown chocolate eyes, I sit by her side everyday while she tells me her secrets and fills me with happiness and sadness of a bad life.

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A fourteen years old girl is walking through the forest, reciting songs and jumping rocks, her steps are cut short by a hand in her mouth and a knife in her neck, she is told to move fast and don't look back.

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A fifteen years old girl is walking through the city along a boy much older than her, a hand in her hand is holding her tight an invisible knife suffocating her soul and heart, she is told to embrace her new life and forget her old one.

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A sixteen years old girl gives birth to another girl, she is walking through pain and tears but still happy because a not so big hand is holding her heart, tight and sweet, she is told she is going to be loved and love with all the strength in this world.

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A twenty years old woman is running through grass, escaping the invisible knife, she falls to the ground and a leg caught her stomach and won't let go, a hand is gripping her face keeping her for making any noise, she is told to keep quiet for the safeness of her hearts.

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A twenty five years old woman is screaming at the top of her lungs for the knife who has hold of the neck of one of her hearts, she has lost one already and is not willing to lost another, her hearts defend her and scream for him to let go of her neck and her life but she cannot fight a war where her hearts are willing to die for her, so reluctant they all go back to being still, to being hold by the knife on their necks.

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A thirty years old woman is crushing against the sun at 5am, she is watching her 14 hearts run through grass and laugh through tough times, she is told to keep smiling for her hearts to keep living.

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A thirty five years old woman is running to the doctor, with a small hand by her side holding her tight and a smile from the man who offers her a run away, she is told to hold still and stop running because deep down the invisible knife is still breathing down her neck, so she lets go of the doctor and sets him free with his pain and with her loss of a forbidden love.

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A forty years old woman with a lonely soul of a little girl is watching her invisible knife falls to the ground and beg for mercy to the sky, she watches how the knife rolls on the floor and cries in agony for the pain in his stomach in form of cancer and cigarettes, she is told to help because her soul can't hold any hateful feelings except for pity to this old, broken knife.

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A fifty years old woman is walking down the aisle, tears cascade from her hearts eyes and smiles turn up at the sight of such a wonderful a

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