i was told i could be anything,
so i chose to be a feminist
because
when i suggested my father help with the laundry,
my mother told me i was crazy.
because
meghan tranior's "all about that bass"
is telling bigger girls to be comfortable in their own skin
because skinny girls already do, right?
because
i'd like to make as much as my male coworkers.
because
i was laughed at for wanting to be a doctor instead of a housewife.
because
people look at me strange when i say i don't want kids.
because
when i gave a speech about feminism in my english class,
i was called a man-hater.
because
"my shoulders distract the boy's education".
because
my mom shouldn't have to worry
about what goes in my drink at concerts.

i will be a feminist until
i can tell my boyfriend
"no babe, i'd rather watch the movie"
and i am not told
"you're depriving him of his needs".
until
my body is my body.
until
i no longer have to carry pepper spray on a keychain.
until
women in foreign countries can vote and drive.
until
woman means human.
until
we understand **** culture
and feminism isn't just about women,
it's about humans.

I wander through lives,
wild thing in a domesticated age,
baring my soul to those who dare see.
I send my thoughts whisper-thin
like night breezes touching you
in your subconscious wonderlands...
and await your unplanned replies.
I change rapidly
unashamedly.
Trying, nonetheless
to do what I'm told,
file my thoughts away like scars
no one wants to see.
Until you resurrect me:
pacing, snarling, wildthing
sleeping in my deepest cells.
You give me my reply in sweeping words,
blessed unholy silence.
A kiss, love, to end the world.

Do I move you?
Do I beat your heart's percussion in my All-Star's allegro rhythm?
Do I make you wonder
while you lie alone, thinking of my fingers
on your skin,
in your hair,
discovering your beautiful
secret places?
Do I touch you?
Do  I linger in your mind like last nights whiskey?
Do I hold you
enraptured
in the sway of my hips?
the tilt of my lips?
Do I make you breathe
deepsighs
when I've been gone too long?
Do I remind you of half hidden fantasies
when I look at you
bedroom eyes, bedroom hair, bedroom voice,
inconsequential syllables
slipsliding their way down your spinal column?
I bet I do...

What would you do
if I painted the sky with stars, and
coaxed the moon to stay,
just to look at it's reflection in your eyes.
If I gathered up all your broken pieces,
and spent hours patching
the hairline fractures in your mind.
If I ignored the splinters,
Because there's always collateral damage.
And if I whispered lullabies while you slept,
just to keep your demon away.
What would you do?
If I kissed your eyes when your world
got ugly.
If I sang to you, just to give you something
beautiful to hear?
If I promised on your very skin
the love my lips can't explain?
If I articulated in fingertips, and sighs.
Would you translate my love,
or just the echoes of your hearts burnt corridors.

My heart is sleeping,
but my body's awake.
My mind's busy keeping
your advances away.
My brain fingers your shadows.
My tongue catches your eyes.
You like how I tell you no
like I can see through your guise,
but in spite of my resistance
it's all a big game.
You'll chase me. You'll catch me.
I'll scream out your name.
We'll do our dance,
sing our song.
You'll realize I'm empty,
and then you'll be gone.
And I'll burn out your image.
Write your name in my sin.
You'll move on, forget I happened.
I'll laugh, and cave in.

My hands are always cold
with no one left to hold them.
My scars, a little too visible.
My memory, a little too lonesome.
Sitting under a bridge thinking,
about the trainspotting
pipe smokers.
Letting my mind carry me off
tryin' to catch some of that smolder
ed green
that burns in my bronchioles.
That grows to trees in my mind.
Can anyone save us, who can see
in a world that's gone blind?