words are meaningless,
i fight the thoughts,
but without words,
it’s like i lack a thousand swords.

i’m being punished
for something that i truly am,
just ovaries, and uterus, and tears,
my blood and menses,
prickly legs,
unshaven armpits, nightmares from hell,
and everything i do, or think, or say,
just gets me through another awful day.
for you, the hairier the better,
for me, just ugly, barren, and unworthy.

i’m being punished
for wanting it all,
held accountable for every choice i make,
judged for passing the opportunity
to slave away beside you,
while you’re just another savior
that guides me, tells me what to do,
and sometimes smacks me,
throws me to the ground.
why do you kick so often
the air out of my lungs?
are you so scared of my so many tongues?
are you afraid that i will kick you down,
tear you apart,
maybe steal your crown?
no, i just want to act like you,
but without fear of being judged.
but all i can do right now is wash away my makeup smudge,
and sleep another sleepless night.

goodnight, my master,