Time to Write Herstory

Love me not for I cannot be what you want me to be.
I cannot let you do it anymore.
I will not be the woman you want me to be,
Docile, subservient, voiceless, sacrificial.

It is time for me to unfurl the flag and shout out.
I am bleeding because of your cruelty.
I am suffering because of your indifference.
I am dying because of the gag you put on me.

I have to do this, reclaim my own.
For myself and for those who are at the tip of your gun.
Hanging from the broken ceilings they weep blood.
Their lifeless feet swinging in the fog shout for justice.

I will fight for them.
I want to see them live, to thrive.
They are all mine - women, farmers, tribal - my tribe.
I want to do whatever is taboo because you say so.

I will stand in the front of the line,
Face the bullets of those like you who fear me.
I will bathe in my own blood and fall lifeless on the asphalt,
With cracking sound of broken bones.

I will be dead but, unvanquished.
I will win because, you will finally see, 
the blood on your hands.
I will fall from the pedestal, lay crushed on ground. 

I will not let you live without a conscience.
History will judge you.
Generations will spit on your face.
It's time you knew what's coming.

Innocents will take what's their own.
They will take the bricks from the home you paid for.
The fire from the kitchen you ate from.
The love that you took for granted.

I will start the fire that will burn your fear.
The fear that makes you so vulnerable.
The fear that makes you forget that you are not alone. 
Fear that makes you put me up on a pedestal.

I want to be in control.
I want to decide destiny.
Away from your shaking hands holding a gun.
I will write my story on my own.

I am not afraid of those you doubt my ability.
I will rewrite history.
It will no longer be yours.
It will be Herstory or mine.

~ Shoma