Being born a woman in a man's world is not ideal, it never will be. We are expected to bow and curtsy in line and dance to the rhythm of the drums, all in sync, not a toe out of line. We are punished for our opinions and whipped for our disobedience. Disobedience that has no right to even be expected, however the unjust actions are allowed as we bend our heads and hold out our wrists to be punished. No one would think to look into my indigo eyes which burn with distaste and uncontrollable, ice cold hate, and notice the hidden blade that my upturned wrist would be hidding, nor would they notice until I have struck their necks deep, and they look at me with unconceived horror while I smile sweetly at them with a smile they manufactured me to perfect.