Sit at a typewriter and bleed

Tue, 02/20/2018 - 04:14 -- nunsif

It's not a lack
It's not a wound...my vagina
It's not where a penis ought to be
It's where I choose to stick one-or not
Keep all your fraud 
and imagined penis envy out of my vagina.

Its destiny isn't fulfilled through a crowning ceremony 
It's not a queen, a king or a value judgement thing
Don't hate
If my breasts don't lactate
Keep aside that calculating
I ain't gonna be incubating
Don't demand what I'm not supplying
Stop this blanket quantifying 
Keep your market forces out of my vagina.
My body means more than a piece of flesh in the pot
I will if I want, I will abort
It's not a vending machine
It's not the slots
You don't get a teddy
Every time I'm hot
So whatever it is that you are expecting 
Keep it out of my vagina. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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