You will not oppress us, we are not livestock for you to

Breed and sell from, we are not pretty objects to display,

I'll do what I want, my body is the only thing that's

Ever truly mine.


Herded like cattle, into a slaughterhouse of labels and

Categories, do not dismiss my anger as being "my time of the month,"

Your genitalia does not make you a god, don't treat me like a disposable



All you see are orifices and porn-magazine dolls, you do not see real people,

Just mannequins and plastic excuses for humans, well I have a voice and I'm

Going to use it, I'm going to scream the inadequacies and the gaps in equality until my

Lungs bleed and wither like flowers.


"Bend over, bitch." you snarl in ugly fantasies graffitied with paper-thin

Justification; you'll get yours, you pathetic little boy.

You think rape is a joke, a dirty word that makes you popular for even thinking it,

But how would you feel?


The End

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