Siren.

There will always be men
who hide behind their facades 
of muscles and weapons and armor. 
There will always be kings born with crowns in their hands
and knights with blood painted onto their skin like tattoos. 
Men who wear arrogance like a second skin, 
who have been taught that this is their birthright. 
They have been taught that everything is theirs for the taking, 
(money, women, booze, all the same value in their eyes). 

Do not sing us their tales. 
We are tired of hearing 
of the king with a stolen crown
and the knight with a silver sword. 
The pirate with a crew of men
and the assassin with a handsome face. 

Men are creatures of brutality, 
lacking almost entirely any grace. 
They require weapons and blood to bring down a kingdom. 
We need only our silver tongues, 
and perhaps our gold streaked bodies to conquer. 
So sing, O Muse, 
not of the rebellion lead by the general with a sword, 
but by his wife, whispering in his ear, 
the ghostwriter of the war. 

While the princes are all born with crowns in their hands
and an invitation to explore, 
us princesses are born to be given as gifts to dragons. 
They tell us to sit pretty, 
our pretty words stilled in our pretty throats,
our hands restless, but pretty when idle, 
our bodies, vessels for nothing but a future white dress. 

They teach us how to sew and cook, 
how to ride pretty and be silent. 
They do not teach us
how to use our curves and contours
to our advantage, 
but we learn, nonetheless. 
We learn to ride fast, wind tearing our hair free of its bindings, 
learn to slip tasteless poisons into the mulberry wines we serve.
We learn to mend far more than just clothes
and how to make every word count.

Our crowns are not given,
they are stolen and soaked in the blood of our fathers.
Our crowns are laced with thorns and roses
smelling so sweetly of saltwater.

Kingdoms rise and fall at our words,
for we wreak more havoc with an
"i love you" 
than any man ever could with a gun.

Yet, you always seem to forget to fear us.  
So, let me remind you. 
We may be born with hair spun from silk
and eyes like the gentle dawn, 
but I assure you, 
we soak our tongues in poison
the same way you soak your arrows. 

Let me tell you a story-
it's made of broken shards of memories
of all the lives I've lived. 
It's made of green glass shards
and crushed budwieser cans. 
It's made of tinder-dry driftwood
and men's thick bones scraped clean. 

Let me sing you a lullaby about salt and the sea. 
About how sailors always feared a woman's voice, 
so when they saw me, 
none hesitated to throw me overboard and leave me to the waves. 
But my mama didn't raise me to drown
so I sank to the bottom of the sea
and I learned to swim instead of sink. 

It's not a sad song, 
don't you weep like that. 
It's a good lullaby, 
a lullaby of survival. 
And if you follow me, 
I'll sing you the rest. 

Before, before the fall, I was human and woman
and entirely unsure of what either word meant. 
Before, before the fall, I was weak- 
and I was unsure if it was because I simply was, 
or because I was trained to be. 
Before, before the leap, I knew not
the meaning of the word freedom. 
I did not know it, 
but still
I craved it
like an addict craves their next fix. 

But now, now I know what human means. 
It means
it means fireworks beneath your skin
and the flutter of butterflies inside your chest, 
it means eyes widened in wonderment
and a rush of adrenaline burning through your veins like liquid fire. 
It means more than just blood dripping from your cut hands, 
it means more than just an ache in your soles, 
more than just an ache in your soul. 


And now, now I know what it means to be woman. 
It means, 
it means more than just a teacup half empty
or an hourglass half full. 
It means more than just a pretty face
or perfectly coiffed curls. 
To be woman is to be warrior, 
to be woman is to be lover, 
is to be desire and strength and wild and energy. 
To be woman is to be everything I thought I couldn't be. 
I am more than just half empty. 


And now, now I know that I was weak, 
not because I am woman, 
but because it was trained into me. 
I was weak because they taught me to be, 
but I always had the potential to be so much more. 
So much more than just pretty. 
And it only took the salt of the sea to reveal it. 

And now, now I know what freedom means. 
Freedom means
freedom means no more emptiness, no more aching bones. 
It means feeling the wild raging sea crashing against your rib cage
and watching the sunrise burn tattoos into your skin. 
It means transparent wings on your back
and a cherry-sweet breath that catches in your throat.
It means unrepentant moans of desire
and nails digging into the skin of your lover. 

And when I fell, 
I did more than just learn to swim. 
I traded my legs for a tail and became my own queen. 

I am everything I ever needed to be. 
I am scales and gills and smiles made of sharp teeth. 
I am fangs and storms and song, 
I will sink your ships and drown your sailors. 
I will feast upon your bones and leave the flesh to the fishes. 
I'm free. 

All a siren is, 
is a woman scorned and betrayed. 
But let me tell you a secret: 
we all end up sirens. 
Whether we are ten or twenty three, 
whether we are fifteen or fifty, 
nine or nineteen, 
we all end up betrayed. 
And we either learn to take our crowns with force
or die trying.
There is no satisfaction
in being the queen
when you are ruled by an empty-headed king. 
There is no glory
in being a war trophy. 
A glorified pet upon a pedestal. 

I was raised to be clothed in a white wedding dress
and be given to the prince of England. 
So I grabbed a gun and learned to sail
and I ruled the high seas. 
And when I was sated by my bounty, 
i went and married the princess of Spain. 

I'm free, 
I am not broken
but alive.