I wore pants to church

I remember the days
when I had to wear a skirt to pray
those jumpers my dismay
but I wore them to school anyway.
I remember the days
confused by what I saw
not even four foot tall
not sold on what I was taught
one day I just woke up
saw it for what it was
and said I’d had enough.
I remember the day
I wore pants to pray
the nuns stopped me in my tracks
but I never once looked back
told them to call my parents
my mother on their side-the merits
of properly dressed females
but my father stood by my details
told him of my discomfort
that I refused injustice
that I would pray in pants
and he told them again my stance.
I remember the days
that I knelt down to pray
God on my shoulder always leading the way.
I remember the days-
Catholic memories
of standing up to nuns
and living comfortably.
I remember the days
only a little girl at play
when I changed the system
never needing permission
just God’s little vixen.

Doth I protest too much?

It’s not about equality
it is not about choice.
It’s all about supremacy
of the female voice.
You won’t say we’re inferior
but keep demanding laws,
teach girls to define themselves
as prey,
turn victims out of us all.
It’s not about equality,
it’s never been about choice
you keep changing the rhetoric
have waves of thought
that don’t connect
and manipulate the voice-
you admit we’re weaker
in a physical sense
only to protect special rights
that give you more dividends.
You forget the rhetoric
tells us how to live
you keep screaming louder
like a tantrum throwing little kid.
Just say the words out loud
let the secrets out
women don’t want equality,
women don’t want equal rights
women want the dream;
the power, resources and lights-
they want to play at midnight
but keep the shadows out of sight.

Declaration of Empowerment

They say men are dominate and females submissive.

They say men are in control and females in constant terror.

They claim that females are weak, incapable, and child-like in our inability to make competent choices.

They say we are meant for the softer arenas of life, that we are physically and mentally the weaker sex.

They have forced our victim-hood and mocked our survival.

They believe they will recreate the world in their image, but they forget-creation is female.

We will not settle quietly into their narrative.

We will not allow our oppressors to dictate our truths.

No, we must rise. We must resist.

Together, we as females, must correct the wrongs acted upon us. Together, we must change the narrative.

No longer shall we sit idly by while our oppressors tell tale of our inability to fight, protect, and maintain fully actualized lives.

No longer will we allow the narrative to be sold that men are in control, that men create our stories, that we hide in fear of their violence, that still we remain silent.

We must stand together to denounce these lies and twisted truths.

We, you, are strong, capable, and ready to take back your story.

Stand now and never settle for any narrative, but strength.

We are the creators, the mothers, the teachers, the architects of the future.

Resist, remove, and rejoice my sisters knowing even in this era of uncertainty it is you who will empower the next generation.

Save the cheerleader

Save the women!
Save the world!
We must protect our little girls
they are weak and prone to failure
due to tears and chauvinist agenda.
We must pass more legalisation
to keep them from degradation.
They are weak and prone to failure
due to physical differences
and biological imperatives,
but we fucked up
with all these fables
we waged war by making ourselves
incapable-women need more legalisation
to ensure our reparations
this is not about equality
women fight for supremacy
but like a woman we play the sheep
Oh please big strong man come save me!
Save the women
destroy the world
please stop stealing empowered girls
let them grow up big and strong
can we undo
what feminist got wrong?

Victimhood

I don’t need your victimhood
I don’t need your help
I have waged my own way
while you played with yourself.
Parade about equality
when all you want is
everything;
the power, the man, the wedding ring-
life that’s fair to femininity-
while you destroy
the enemy?
I don’t need your victims tale
I don’t need your progress
I have waged a war in kind
to end the world you promised
protest all you want
but never do define
you are exactly
the very stereotypes
you mime.
Broken little girls
all you do is whine-
imagine all the trauma,
nightmares are your bribe,
scream until you’re crying
then say it’s all their fault
but never actually fight for change
just hold another woman’s march.

The empowered woman’s manifesto

The empowered woman never falters in understanding that nothing is as simple as black and white. Yes, the empowered woman walks tall knowing everything exist in grey, but the best part? Knowing this means she’d have reported Mr. Grey to the authorities and moved on with her bad self.

The world won’t prepare you for this walk. The world despises strong women, but not for the reasons you think. It’s because unlike you, most are imposters, most visible strong and empowered women-aren’t. It’s hard to imagine, right? Katy Perry and Alicia Keys not being goals-well not really. Strip the celebrity down and what do you have? Women controlled by their image, career, and life style.

A true empowered woman stripped of privilege, resources, and image is still an empowered woman.

She is the woman who communicates honestly, openly and without apology.

She is the woman who is critical first of her behaviors, actions, and beliefs because she knows the full extent of good and evil she is capable of.

She is then critical of all information she’s fed and the behaviors/words of others, nothing goes unchallenged.

She is the woman of choice. Always understanding her responsibility in the matter whether; career and family planning, or simply where she’ll play tonight she knows she’s going prepared.

She speaks out when wronged no matter how fearful for she knows she must protect herself.

She is never the victim for even when attack she knows she’ll get the last laugh.

She knows her rights, who to call, and how the system is built to protect her as well as what to do if it fails her.

She is prepared for great joy and great pain knowing life is filled with degrees of various emotions and experiences.

She sets boundaries and keeps them.

She doesn’t fight, no, the empowered woman discusses, debates, and critically examines, but knows fights are wasted energy.

She knows loneliness and knows how to end it. She isn’t afraid of a Friday night in, but also has back up plans for company.

She doesn’t cheat. No, the truly empowered woman doesn’t cheat because like fighting it’s a waste of time and ultimately an act you should be ashamed of.

The empowered woman makes her way despite a world informing her she’s weak, limited, and oppressed. Yes, despite feminism the empowered woman makes the most out of life educating the world with action. Letting no individual who comes in contact with her forget that empowered women are alive and well.

Always beautiful Lena

Here we go again-
hypocrisy in skin!
Lost the weight through starving
now claiming you’re not flaunting,
hamming it for cameras,
pretending you aren’t trying-
maintaining that you’re charming?
You certainly aren’t a hottie
a mentor, or survivor,
honey you’re just a liar
a rich girl with no fire,
just a vapid, tacky, yuppie
with too much money.
Lena Dunham is so lucky!
Never knowing realities short comings,
playing at delusional
to get out of something-
honey I’ve lived with delusions
you know a lot of nothing.
Scream fat, get thin, pretend you aren’t playing it-
keep saving the poor and women
even the ones
who don’t give
consent.

Educate me

Tell me what a female is;
a compilation of unhinged,
a figure made of porcelain-
with
colored vary tones of skin,
a body dressed in red ribbons,
a creature of no consequence.

Tell me what a female is-
I’ve been dying to be let in
to the secrets of my slit-
unknowing is like oxygen!
My lungs are desperate
to breathe again.

Tell me what a female is!
I’ve lived decades so ignorant,
as to my own narrative-
caught up in the experiences.
Guess that’s wrong due to your existence
being a woman is just some lipstick?

Upon second thought,
I think it’s just you
how ’bout
define yourself
not my poon.

Female

Tell me what it means to be a female;
sunsets, hair nets, and twiddle.
Living on the silk and needle
telling of the nights most lethal.
Tell me how it feels to be a female;
remind me what it’s not to live with heels on-
that it’s not the tits or
even
the blood,
nor is it about the vision of the yum-yum.
Tell me what it’s like to be a female
who defines the truth between a split-tail?
All these lipsticks lies
and rouge wails-
this their alibi-
the world’s scared, but
still they will define what’s fair
all along she’s theirs-but who cares?
Tell me what it means to be a female;
cotton candy limes and details,
female tears are lies and evils,
they define our lives,
but we will
defend their rights
until we fail.

Chained to the Benjamins

 

I am not your friend
just another fan to send
straight to a follow, straight to a like-
heart that picture-you want my next album-
right?

Keep talking, talking, talking
repetition is the key
keep singing all those lyrics
that supposedly speak to me.
Keep talking, talking, talking
your morals come undone
just
sexy, flirty, fun
an open invite to be the one

One in a million you don’t know our names-
taking to politics to up your trashy game
a shameless plea-
love me, love me, love me
while you can’t even love yourself.
Preaching to a crowd-eating baby food out loud- pro ana all around.
Molest your sister write it down
get another book deal now.

Keep talking, talking, talking
repetition is the key
keep penning all your verses
a prose of lies-truth on its knees.
Keep talking, talking, talking
your morals come undone
just
sexy, flirty, fun
an open invite to succumb

Your siren song, siren song.
You got it wrong, you got it wrong.
Play along, play along,
million reasons to come undone
shake it off, shake it off, your just an artist off the cuff.
A fame monster, a fame whore, your lady gaga in a pink hat playing poor. I grew up without the upper east side, never knowing the difference between a diamond and a dive.

Keep singing, keep singing,
killing me softly
music is dead
and the truth is haunting.
Keep singing, keep singing,
the rich run this bitch
I’ll keep counting pennies while you keep marching for the pics.

Sexy, flirty, fun-empowerment for twits.