Being a woman

To Mr. X, in hopes that one-day he may find solace in a prison cell

I’ve grown to love men’s inconsistencies

How broad a mind, to jeer slut, tight and prude!

You kissed my neck: You’ve got no choice, you tease.

I bit my tongue; Dumb sugar through and through

For names they scorch but I’ll admit some truth

To fuck you, dear, was never my desire

But thanks so much for flattery uncouth

For hissing in my ear your twisted smile

How is it that I’m filling up with guilt?

Are all women’s futures ones of shame?

I’ll sob a silent song as flowers wilt

Outcast to puzzle manly means and aims

I hid from you; I’ll run until I die

‘Til all is fair, no men to pacify.