I thought it was cliché, when people talk about love
How "the moon shines brighter when you smile"
And "I see heaven in your eyes"
How thousands of songs were written
In the name of love

Then you came around
And I realized how everything was true
I saw the moon, shining in your smile
My heaven, is in the way you look at me
And thousands of stars collided in my bones
The moment you said I love you

I would spend eternity
Thinking about your hands
The way they touch
And your lips
The way you whisper
And I would die, over and over
If I would to die, in your arms

Love is not like the movies
It’s not like books, or songs
It’s not like anything I've heard
Or seen
It crashes sometimes, it hurts mostly
But it will always be worth it
Because love, is the way you bite your lips
It’s the way you hold your steering wheel
It’s the way you kiss my hand
Love is you.

Only one type of ****** is illegal to show,
and wearing a skirt is an excuse for ****.
Having two X chromosomes somehow makes my life less important
than someone with an X and Y.
I am taught how to use makeup,
and told it is to attract men.
I am showed how to shave my legs,
and told that having underarm stubble makes me less of a women.
I am told that supporting feminism,
means I hate men when all I want is to be equal to them.

I am not a true minority.
I am white woman.
I believe in feminism because that is what I experience.
But what about what I don't experience?
It pains me to have a power and to not know what to do with it.
Race is still an issue.
I hear these words all the time, but do I really hear them?
There are people out there who want to be married and they can't. I sit on my social media and say what should be said.
Sometimes.
Is that enough?
I have the power.
So why am I wasting it?

I’ve been conditioned
like freshly washed hair
for years
do not offend
unless the end of the sentence is “im sorry”
let the shoes and boots and heels of many make indents on you
like blueprints of demurity swaddled in insecurity
kept alive by the blurry ideas i once held about femininity
because i couldn't be a girl if the words that flew from my chords
were anything but rosy
ring around the Josie, pockets full of suppose he was to compliment your ****
when walking down a thorough-fair
busy people back and forth and grandmas with wrinkled sweaters
thank you
muttered from chapped lips and an even more chapped psyche
why must i keep my wits about to not risk making him angry
that was not complimentary but i am fearful he might spit my words back onto me
in the form of fists and slurs and honestly
im tired
of being the sidewalk beneath the feet of creeps
i am the sky and the trees and the moon
but i do not speak with the wisdom of travelling seeds
i speak with the warmth and subtlty of freshly microwaved milk
like soft silk i wish i could tatter
i wish venom soaked words could be spit in response to your “compliments”
but i would rather let you diminish me for the few moments it takes to objectify me
than to risk angering your inner beast and suffering the consequences of meninism or masculinism
whatever the word is this week
i will not be another number
ink soaked paper red with the monthly bloodshed of the sisters
every second is another unspeakable act
i see women
with tongues as round and large as planets
and tonsils the size of solar systems
birthing new galaxies in the words they speak
and shooting comets like fiery ***** of comebacks
when that slack-jawed fool sat and wished and drooled
into his monthly issue of mens rights magazine
she tore down the even minuscule belief he could have had that he had the right to comment on her body
in three seconds his pride, and entitlement
shifted into shame
and embarrassment
and i envy these women
because the only time i can take back my power
is when i am standing in front of a room
speaking rhymes and metaphors preaching independence and strength
to a group of people who now think i am a hero
i am not a hero
i put my shoes on one foot at a time
and i still manage to forget a couple days of birth control here and there
and i cant stand up for myself
in the moments after an attack i retreat into my latte and pray today will not be the day the male dominated society takes my power away
because i am small
and though i am growing every day
i still can only pray
that one way or another
i will be able to be as strong a woman as my sisters
my mother
and take back my power
and speak not with the beauty of a flower
but with the sharpness of a bumblebees sting
and one more thing
your compliments
are not complimentary

I'm not BABE
or *******
or PRINCESS
I'm not the names you throw at me from your car window
I'm not HONEY
or SWEETIE
or LOOK AT ME WHEN IM TALKING TO YOU *****
Harassment. A 10 letter word with thousands of synonyms
each one like a knife to my skin
each one a scar I can point to and show
"this is where I stopped trusting"
and
"this is when I started running"
Never was I prepared for a life where Im told to be timid
To shrink myself down
To be humble so that men aren't threatened
To never speak my mind and to laugh at everything he says
To always carry my keys in my hand like they are a weapon
To never show my skin and that its my fault if I'm taken advantage of because "boys will be boys"
We live in a world where the female body is fetishized
Where women are seen as "liars" if they wear makeup and "lazy" when they don't
Where girls in school are being removed from class because their tank top straps aren't three fingers wide as if making sure that men are comfortable is more important than an education.
The overarching misogyny that plagues women everyday
That makes them see themselves as the "second class ***" will always be apparent
Unless we make a change.
So no
I will not SMILE
or BE NICE
I will tear
And destroy
And break
And smash
I will fight.

My thoughts are heavy and loud
they make my head pound and my neck sore
my body begins to shake
Quaking in my own significance
i dont want to exist anymore
Let me go