I think I'll drink
until I bleed inside 
and then I'll drink
just a little bit more

I'll swallow some mouthwash
and spit out my pride
and then I'll swallow you
to give you a surprise 

the best part is when she laughs
 because she is just so above the men
 and above the women who whine
 pick me
 to the men incapable of loving
 what they do not respect
 
she’s like how I want to be
 but am too prideful to actually be like
 she’s a lion
 that fucking goddess
 so un-American
 I want to be like her

 her laugh is disarming
 they don’t deserve the dignity
 an argument would give them

the world didn’t end
when she put myself first

people say the devil has a sharp tongue
 well maybe
 the devil is just a woman with wit
 that sharpens the sword of her tongue
 and writes with a crystal ball point pen
 that must be what they thought in Salem
 when witchcraft was a more reasonable excuse
 than god creating woman with a brain
 when all she came from
 was the rib of Adam
 written by man

 maturity
 is looking at your hero
 and seeing why people don’t like her
 and understanding
 that what people don’t like
 is exactly what you admire
 and exactly what makes you alike
 and realizing
 if you respect your hero
 for the reasons people tear her down
 then you can love yourself
 in the same way 

if you’re a woman who says it’s easier
 to have daughters than sons
 let me ask you something
  
 is it easier to teach a woman how not to be raped
 than to teach a man
 how to not rape?
  
 I suppose the most difficult medicine to swallow
 is one’s own pride
 and it doesn’t help
 if the rest of the world won’t help you
  
 and either way
 the loss of innocence is difficult to grieve
 but one of those situations
 only acknowledges one’s loss of innocence
  
 some mothers care more about their own healing
 than the healing of their daughters
 but in the end it feels like there’s nothing to fix
 if you can’t see what’s broken
  
 if you’re a woman who says it’s easier
 to have daughters than sons
 I hate you
 but probably not as much as you hate yourself

your chest is the earth
your fingers are the roots

your breath is the air
your mouth is the ocean

your cells are the creatures
and your hair is the jungle
 
you create our own world
your very own universe

 your thoughts are not bad
 just because they don’t like them
 and their god doesn’t like them
 your god
 likes you enough
 just fine
 just the way you are
 who are
 they
 to tell you differently? 

 close your eyes
 until you bleed out roots of light
 and sink into the earth
 and fall asleep 

 I find myself constantly searching
 for mothers and sisters in the women around me
 and being let down all over again
 when the wires don’t connect
 it’s hard
 being disappointed by family