I am scared.
Not just for myself but for all the girls out there.
For all those girls who walk home alone really late.
For all those girls whose bosses after work hours ask them to wait.
For all the young girls who don't even know much about anything yet.
For all the women whose husbands or fathers get real drunk after sun set.
Why you ask me?
Because of all the disgusting stories I've heard and the terrible things I've seen.
Because men get away with almost anything.
Even if they've ruined a girl's everything.
Because y'all don't want to teach boys to treat women with respect.
You don't want to teach them to back off when she rejects.
You just want to go on about how she should have dressed more appropriately.
But even then would he have treated her differently?
I don't think so.
Because we encouraged this when we failed our girls a long time ago.
When we didn't give justice to all those countless women.
When we let the guilty men walk away as if they had done nothin'.
When we blamed the victim.
When we didn't even let her speak and only listened to him.
We failed when she stopped reporting even, because she didn't want to make it worse for herself.
We failed when we drove her so mad, so devoid of hope that she ended it then and there.

she is
never stable
forever shifting
iridescent light
burning fire
molded by
foreign hands
foreign trauma
infecting body
it still hurts
as if it were
her own

When you feel the thunder in your thighs
Look up to the sky
And thank only yourself
For being brave enough to allow him passage through your lands
Given the last time you peeked through the gate
It was torn down
​
They
               Scorched the trees
               ****** the birds
               Ate the flowers
               And ****** the rivers dry
​
C O L O N I Z I N G      you

Selfishly
Turning lush forests into the Sahara
Yet
You flooded them out
​
Now feel the cool trickle
Of his hands on your waist
The splash of lips, on your inner thigh
Notice the depth within you
The surge of water deep in your belly
Rushing, rushing, rising
Until it overflows.
For now let me drink your sweet nectar
But remember you decide when to turn off the faucet

-The life history of my sexuality

‘Cause you think you’re so big and so tall
And us so scared and so small
But we’re not
We’re done hiding
We are rising
Does our truth hurt?

Hurt like those words
And your hands
Their stares and demands
That we did this to ourselves
It couldn’t possibly be their
Boss
Friend
Brother or lover
As long as they were admired and covered
By the strength of cowards

You showed us that there’s power in numbers
While then I’d be scared because while you all slumbered
In your thrones of entitlement and institutionalized security
We’ve been building bridges out of each other’s despair
Climbing mountains of self-worth
While you were so unaware
Of us pulling our sisters and brothers up too

Our voices now loud enough to shake your foundation
And cause you to fall, because without hesitation
We were forced to thread shame into the ends of our hair
And carry it with us

But not anymore

This conversation is so long overdue
But our time has come, we know this is true
As there are skeletons willing to rise from their graves
If it means justice finally coming our way
And shining light on all those who thought they could
Take what was not their’s

But now we are here and our numbers are strong
And we will build our own empire out of what was done wrong
Our first ruling order, is not a request
You WILL understand
No doesn’t really mean yes
It doesn’t matter the length of my dress
That your position doesn’t make my autonomy mean less-

My body is not some quest for you to conquer
We are tired of shrinking ourselves just for you to be comfortable

Times up

Your rule is over, this is our kingdom now
And so we ask
Does our truth hurt?

-Me too

how (w)horrific to be
marina wholly in
and (w)holily out
the dragon’s mouth.

marina warns what swallowing connotes.

isn’t this why agatha offers
her ******* like a double portion?

how did they swallow being swallowed?

and how did they convince the dragon
to declare them undevourable
without their qualities of flesh?

In an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society
would every person in society
including women
fulfil their potential
to experience optimal joy and happiness?
Would women be given
the freedom and encouragement
to express their unique authentic self
in an optimally joyful and happy way?
Would women be given
the freedom, encouragement, support and resources
to develop and exercise to the full
their talents
to experience optimal joy and happiness?

Fighting for herself,
a woman stands her ground.
She is we.
We is the women of the world, finally standing up for ourselves.
A woman knows she is strong. All on her own.
Against a man’s pride.
Awaken, women of the past,
Powerful women must unite.
be with us now.
All mighty women.
With the destruction of the man’s arrogance,
All men must come to understand their ignorance.
With this comes women howling with enthusiasm.
Breaking down barriers of the patriarchy.
Lower pay, ****** exploitation, being treated as if women are “lower” than all men. All these things that have shut out women for so long.
Well, watch this.
Smashing the wall,
standing our ground.
A woman is a hell of a force.
Don’t you know they named her Mother Nature for a reason?
We must help to resist.
Women do not come without being prepared.
It is an organized chaos.
As if it is Mother Nature herself.
Incredible and blazing.
A cure,
to what is wrong.
Women. Finally fighting for what’s right.
Women. It’s going to be a hell of a fight.

When she looked in the mirror all she saw were words like ugly, not good enough, fat.
I silently cursed them for labelling her things like that.
Because of them she didn't think she could be loved.
Because of them she cried for hours until no more tears could come.
She didn't see how beautiful she was.
The most incredible despite the flaws.
She didn't realise she needn't change.
For I had fallen for her anyway.
I knew I loved her more than she ever loved herself.
She despised herself actually, thinking she was worthless.
How would I ever show her I loved her more than this whole world?
They made sure she hated herself so much that she wouldn't even believe my words.
But more than showing her I loved her more than anyone else.
I wish I could show her how to love her own self.

I'm enough because
I don't need to find my identity
within others' words.
I'm enough because
God says I am.