My concern will always be for women, defined as adult human female.
Our experiences unique by birth, and our girlhood, our womanhood, shared.
By integrated systems, we are oppressed.
And by this violent, homicidal, authoritarian order that is patriarchy,
Our spirits are broken, our bodies are defiled, our voices are silenced, we are sold, we are bought, we are used, we are murdered.
But we still have a fire deep within our soul.
A fire that comes from passion.
Passion to create, to write and inspire.
To love, to heal, and empower.
To organize, analyze, and act.
Also, the passion to burn the patriarchy down to the fucking ground.
To slit the throat of rapists.
To cut the nuts off of child molesters and make them fucking eat it.
To set fire to misogynistic propaganda, and reject woman-hating culture with the amount of intensity that is integral to women’s liberation.
To be offensive, because that’s what feminism is supposed to fucking be.
Feminism is not supposed cater to the feelings of men.
But to the needs of women.
And as a soul that has been damaged, I shower my discontent into poems, short stories, journal entries…
In whatever way I can put a name to the suffering. In whatever I can connect through the power of creativity, with other souls.