How am I? How am I? I am oppressed. Here, I am not free Or heard Or respected. Here, I am told what to do with my own body.
And I can’t help but wonder— How dare they? How dare they force me into a piece of cloth, One they know I will disregard? How dare they back me into a corner And wrap me in a headscarf? How dare they oppress me for my freedom And cover me as if that's the answer?
Why punish the victim, When that won’t stop the victor? Why shun the abused While glorifying the abuser?
How dare they expect me to listen— How dare they, When I have a fire that can’t be put out Not even by my blood and tears.
Wrote this while fuming over what an uncle told me + something my parents said earlier lol