this is for you.
the women who have carried pain,
silently, timidly, swallowing
it like bile over and over again.
this is for you.
the women have disregarded anger,
abuse, hurt, lies and themselves
in the name of love,
countless of times.
this is for you.
the women who have
been tamed by men
whose dirty hands have left you
empty and dry,
the women who have been told
that a women does not speak
until spoken too.
this is for you.
the women who have forgotten
that they have the right
to be as loud, as bold,
as bright and free.
this is for you.
the women who remember
but they have tied your ankles
and kept you
beneath their feet.
this is for you.
women. my women.
the revolution
that lives within you.
a reminder,
a promise,
a vow.

my mother did not raise me through hell for me to
mourn the loss of a man who only ever knew how to hurt.
my grandmother did not spend nights singing lullabies of divine love to me for me to settle for the mundane,
for the mediocre.
i, i will never be mundane, mediocre, boring.
i will always be crazy. crazy. insanity flows.
brilliant. loud. free. bold. angry. seething. wild.
i earned it, i earned it.
i spent years, years taming the woman i was to please the world, family, men.
for what?
for tongues that only ever lie?
for eyes that only ever see the scars on my soul?
for hands that only know how to claim, not give?
for minds that bask in stagnancy?
for hearts that never beat unless filled with lust or anger?
for my ankles to be tied to the poles of honour,
for my mouth to be sewn shut, unfeeling when they rip me apart
for i was born with a vagina?
i earned the right, i earned this space.
to be. full.
and no one, no one can take it away from me.
not my demons, not my trauma,
not my past,
not my mother,
not the men and not you.
do not think for a second
i would cut the skin off my for you, for anyone,
i was born on the coldest of winter nights, to a woman unknown.
i survived, i survived.
a birth that should never have happened,
a birth that would’ve only brought despair,
pain and blood.
i defied the gods,
i changed my fates and i survived. and i always will.
when you have lived through the things i have,
when you have had to see the things i have.
the blood, the pain, the trauma.
survival becomes second nature, it becomes an instinct.
it doesn’t matter anymore.
nothing, nothing can break me anymore for i have survived through
the harshest winters,
the hottest summers,
the loneliest autumns and saddest of springs.
do not think for a second that the hands of you can touch me anymore.
you no longer deserve an inch of my lands, never again.
i no longer give, without taking.
i no longer love, without demanding.
who taught me, who taught me to love,
without care for my own soul?
who taught me, who taught me that love,
meant staying even if he makes you bleed?
even if he makes you scream.
that it is okay as long as he stays?
who decided that that was to be called love?
who taught me, who taught me?
never. never again.
me. love me, first.
never the men.
never again.
they have taught me
that anger is not my right,
only men with strong hands
can carry anger so loud
it doesn’t matter who it hurts.
they have taught me
that as a woman, i bear my pain
quietly. softly.
for women, softness comes naturally, doesn’t it?
no longer do i want to be the soft woman
the world has demanded me to be.
listen. listen.
i will scream, i will shout.
i will not bear pain in silence anymore.
i will not seethe in anger in silence anymore.
my feet have bled, have burnt
but they have never stopped
from walking through
the hells
only a woman
could bear.
i am.
i am a woman.
born through disgraced,
raised with royalty,
tainted with disaster
of every kind.
i am,
i am the revolution
that has happened.
i am,
i am the revolution
that has come
to stay.