- a piece for those whom i hate -

I wish they would just die

You know, drop dead like some nasty fly?

The language I’m using might be a tad too strong

But how can I not, when them being alive is just too wrong.

It is not a simple irrational fear of mine

Its trauma, it’s something I can’t recover from – I can’t seem to be fine.

I see them in broad daylight

They chase me in my nightmares no matter how strong I try to stand up to fight.

They are predators,

With eyes so lustful I almost want to curse at their creators.

I shudder to think what runs in their heads

Every time they see a girl approaching from up ahead.

They say girls should dress for themselves,

To be confident, to flaunt those pieces that they keep on the top shelf.

We fight and say to not care

About those who shame and judge what we want to look and wear.

But regardless of our self-confidence and strength,

Their existence persists, much like some inevitable stench.

It seems it doesn’t matter how high we build our walls

They seem to see past every layer and right to our cores.

They defend themselves by saying it’s our fault.

That we should be conservative – we should have worn thicker clothes.

They say that it’s us, not them.

But whose lust drove them to want to see past a skirt’s hem?

Our efforts never seem to matter,

Even if we cry, scream, or want to win in another pointless banter,

We can’t control what they want to see

It is out of our hands – it can’t always be our responsibility.

When men can’t control their raging demons,

Why must it be the women who suffer for some reason?

How long will it be until we can truly be free?

To flaunt ourselves as society’s rightful queens?