You paint me to be a beautiful rose with fragile pink petals and a stem that could snap with the gentlest of touches You tell me I should be dainty, delicate My lips should be soft and quiet because there is only one thing my mouth is good for and it is not speaking My hands should be small, clasped within a man's, not folded into an angry fist thrusted in the air My whole body should be hairless because who would ever want to **** a hairy gorilla I know I wouldn't (oh, wait...) You mock me for needing to go to the library the party the bathroom with at least one other girl And maybe your jokes would be funny if I wasn't so terrified all the time because society tells women "don't get *****" instead of telling men "don't ****" And it's time for a change because I may be a beautiful rose but roses have thorns and mine are as sharp as daggers.
I was inspired at the Women's March and wrote this shortly after