We’ll starve until our blood bursts out our veins,
or maybe just pretend, whining so you’ll
look at us, just once.
We’ll pull out all the stops - Bitch! Slut! Whore! Prude! -
and we turn on each other, shriek so you’ll
listen to us, just once.
We don’t have a say in the answers you gave,
the questions in blood we never let you have,
nor the choices you forced us into.
Take away the money for our passions,
Control our bodies and how we view it,
Kill our friendships, self-esteem, careers.
We are tired. Watch us wither
into mothers grieving for our girls,
raise them by driving the stake in deeper.
You won’t do anything. You won’t.
We don’t believe in you anymore;
we don’t believe in anything anymore.
