It’s not working
And not much has changed
So it’s time for blunt action
To take place.
I should not worry
Walking home at night.
Teach your sons no means no
And cat calls make you look like dogs.
It’s not your place to tell me to keep my hair long
And a pixie cut is not code for sexually confused.
So I don’t want kids?
Congratulations, it’s up to me
And it doesn’t make me irresponsible for traveling
Or reading instead.
My best friend’s a slut
For making love
But he gets encouragement
For slamming the drunk blond.
And I’ve heard it’s inappropriate
To discuss my monthly pain
But you will not leave the chance to judge
For not scraping over every follicle with a blade.
Now I can go on forever
And one day maybe I will
But I’m sick of the judgment so let’s make one thing clear,
I’ve paid my dues to society
In vomit and tears
Bruises and blood
And thoughts of destroying and taking actions
That are the upmost of nonrefundable.
Anxiety, depression, and insomnia
Spiraled from the expectations of too many.
A word of advice from a veteran like me,
Take that extra slice.
Wear your lipstick red.
Cry when the wizard dies.
And the next time someone says
“Chill out, it’s just a joke.”
Look them straight in the eye.