Feminist Rage

you're goddamn right

if a man puts his hands on me

i'm supposed to accept it,

be grateful

because fighting back is-

hateful?

you're goddamn right i hate

the feel of his fingertips

touching me in places i don't want them to be.

my skin is something i have to live in

and i can't do that

if he's trying to make it his place, too.

you're goddamn right i hate the fact that we -

women -

have to huddle inside ourselves

because the men don't like 

the creatures we become when we free

ourselves from their cages;

or because we're afraid of what they'll do

when they realize we can fly.

and you're goddamn right

i hate the look in their eyes

when they think they've clipped us and left us for dead,

their smiles when they think the only way we'll heal

is in their fists.

well my fists are clenched too

and i don't care about bruises or split knuckles,

because i'll gladly split some skin

against a jaw that thinks it can say whatever it wants to me.

whether i'm alone under a streetlamp

or just trying to do my job

it may be hateful but i'll gladly break the hand

that tries to touch me or my sisters

without permission, without consent.

it might be hateful -

it is hateful -

you're goddamn right it's hateful,

but i have a right to hate what hates me

for no other reason than that i know

that i do not exist to please him.