My mother never gave birth to a girl
Neither did her and my father ever raise a daughter
Yet, they raised a wolf—wild, fearless, strong, and resilient

They told me to howl at everything I found misfit;
to bark as a warning sign,
to riot as an act of resistance

From a distance, I could picture myself and ponder
How life could've been easier
I wonder
The pillar and figure
To seek comfort.
Reality took the turn
Twist of fate, no signals to warn.
A lone wanderer on a hunt
Faced the trouble and bore the brunt
Walked through the ashes and pieces
Lost in the crowd,
Numb from the voices too loud.
I shunned away from all
"I am brazen and bold."
I don't care about the label
'cause I am misfit
I am the Rebel.
Pen in my hand
Thoughts to pour out and rant.

Funny
but not in a polite way
Witty
Daring
Razor-sharp
Basking in a round of warm-beer-belly laughs

Pillow soft
No-man's land
Lay down your weapons
on my shoulder.

Confident
Never bossy.
An everyday diplomat navigating courtesies
A heard point.

Attractive
******
On
   my
     own
       terms.
By
   my
     own
         rules.

Liked
or unliked
The choice is theirs
I have little time for it.

To be all this at once
or not at all
on my count

Take aim

Why can't women have ***
Why are you praised for the same act that demonizes me
Why can't I be proud of my body
Why must it be hidden away
Why can't I experiment
Why can't I even experience
Why does *** mean I'm so ******
Why does *** have to destroy me

*** is an act for he modern man
He stands tall while we bow down
He receives all the praise
All for an act that he only gives halfway
Because it's all
"On your knees"
"**** my ****"
"Don't be a tease"

*** is a privilege for those with a Y chromosome
So that they can stare while we cover up
So they can **** while we remain chaste
So they can stand over our broken bodies
Whilst we crumble from within

And I'm so tried
Tried of the ***** looks
Tired of the names
Tired of being a salve to this society
Tired of the image of man dictation how I feel
Tired of everything that's wrong with ***  

We deserve to **** just as much as you
And **** we will
Because we don't need you permission to love our bodies
And someday we will learn that
And on that day you will have to learn to share
Share your precious *** with the new modern woman

my body is a tragedy
lined with fragmented artefacts
of a wartorn state
highlighted by shades of red
and lines of grey sadness

there is nothing like the pity
in the eyes of those trusted to provide aid
it sings a woeful song of healing and love
until you are okay to walk again

you become a symbol
of their service to society
and they move on to lands more beautiful
and planes much less devasted

you are left in the shadows
still broken but warmer than before
warmer despite the poison
you have been doused in called care

Oh, the way you inhabit me
I shudder, etched inside of me is the feeling of dying
Pulsing, your emanations
Consume me and I refuse to release you from my clutches
Struck breathless instantly
You offer little reason, but you return my robbed passion
I glimpse at your grave eyes
And I feel the tide of the sea within me start to part for you
You catalyze my stolen gaze
I almost feel you shudder and rush in my sodden esophagus
A soft pink suckle
I euphorically asphyxiate for you, on you – with you
Unuttered, my subconscious
Fabricates the smell and taste of your flesh using your words
My body is left ravenous
To the conjecture of your apparition as it levitates above me
Below you I kneel – impure
Please let your sensory invading of my aquatic mind cleanse me
I chant a plea to your figment
Imagining your tongue feeling the words move inside my mouth
My glistening incantations drip  
And I feel your stirring when my lips part for evening prayer
I awaken an appetent beast
Rising to dominate the submission hibernating in my sharp bones
My locked jaw wants it all
I won’t release you, so let me taste your last watery breath

I shudder, etched inside of me is the feeling of dying

Makeup on,
Makeup off.
Beautiful voice,
Raspy Cough.

Modest or bold,
Wears a hijab.
Model-like body,
No six-pack or abs.

Masculine tomboy,
Wears fishnet-tights.
Regardless how we look,
We still have rights.