For The Man Who Told Me Feminism Was For Ugly Girls
Then let me always be ugly.
Let me always be the girl who was made of knives.
If all you want from a woman is something silent and pretty and smooth, make me wild and loud and screaming, make me the woman you will not sit beside on the train.
Make me gorgon, give me snakes for hair and white knights to turn to stone.
Let me forever be acid-tongued and terrible.
Let me forever sink ships rather than launch them,
it is not my job to give you sails.
Make me unfuckable, unapproachable, untouched by the hands of men in the street,
on a crowded bus,
in a bar and brazen after three cheap drinks that make their breath smell like empty gas tanks and nowhere to go.
Let me never fake laughter at the jokes that men like you make at my expense, the expense of my sisters.
Let me raise ugly daughters who know that their names are not baby,
their bodies are not battlegrounds,
their skin is not scandalous.
Let me sink my sharp teeth
into the hand raised against me and let me say,