If I had six seconds to speak to you

Only six, mind

The words I had would not be enough

But here goes, gotta try.

I hate how women walk through the dark

With their keys clasped in their fists

And think "Yeah I could take that guy,

But not him-" and self defense

Is a matter of fact

Like its all on us to make right the wrongs

We got going down now.

As if we have to stop the men who could stop themselves

From hurting us.

No we do not want you

You low down scag bags you know who you are

Your whistles trail us up the street

As if for some reason its a treat

To be lusted  after

Like we're just meat-

Hanging on hooks for you to peruse.

Yes, I know you.

In self defense and in good conscience

We stalk and walk the streets daily

Tattoos miniskirts

Burkha's, Amish dresses

Does it matter what we're dressed in really?

Does it matter?

We are women, daughters of Eve and Bathsheba

Rahab and Mary.

We are mothers sisters, lovers wives friends,

We are more than hips and thighs and yes, breasts.

We are more than hair and lips and eyes.

We are alive.

Rape culture predominant blames the victim for her crimes

Going out to have a good time, to spend time with friends

To enjoy the night life

"What were you wearing?"

"Who were you with?"

"How much did you drink?"

"Did you enjoy it?"

Like a mini skirt or a cocktail dress entitles us to be attacked

Like every time a skirt is above your knees

You're wearing a flashing neon sign that says

CHECK THIS.

Like that makes any sense.

But behold men take responsibility,

Pull yourselves back, recall, seriously

You have mothers and sisters and wives and friends

We are not product, prostitutes, to be penned

Categorized and made playthings by anyone.

You want to stop rape culture, the predominence

That its ok for a man to "Pamela!" a woman

But not ok for a woman to wear a cocktail dress, all pink and pretty

Because she's "too much temptation?"

Its ok for men to take the Walk of Fame

While the woman trudge the Walk of Shame

How dare you put all the blame

on our narrow shoulders!

Where are our protectors?

Where are the real men,

Who say to other men,

"She is not an object!"  ???

Where are the real men of the world,

Who call us sister,

Instead of "whore"?