Hypocrite/ a woman's warning
You stop me. My shoulders bear.
You seem surprised by what is there.
My chains, My holds to keep me there.
Your need to control my body and mind. To judge me upon my chest as though
you know you know you know what's best.
How can I please you, your Gods, your eye, if you constrict me, try to conform me to your lie?
My breasts, their size, do not give you right to what is mine.
You give me straps to hold me down? fine, I won't let this society down.
But don't be surprised or enraged if proof of your sin, my skin, you will find in flames, in ashes, engorged by my sisters who will scream out my name and correct your wrong and try to sing, to screech -to go hoarse- trying and trying and trying to write a better song
and so you may never forget our rage
I'll also print it on a page.