i can and i will

I did long term stupid things for temporary happiness,

Started a life-long war, for 5 minutes of peace,

Cut off my leg because I got a bruise on my foot,

Cut off my hair because I was too lazy to brush it,

Spent the night with you, in you, around you,

even though I should have just endured the company of loneliness and melancholia.

Instead I had a good time with bad memories.

You left in the morning, I was already gone by midnight.

I washed your smell out of my sheets and my hair,

but I couldn’t get rid of what you put inside me.

It’s over for you, but it’ll never be over for me,

you got over me, on top of me, but I’ll get never over it.

My eyes are wet and my wounds are fresh, like dewdrops on flower petals,

My hands sore from holding on to yours, they’re slippery,

like your tongue when we kissed,

first in my mouth, between my lips, and out again,

behind your teeth and walls of silence, never to be seen again,

out of my sight, now you’re just in my mind all the time again,

lost hands, lost touch, just lost and never found again.

I want to be able to go out in public at any hour of the day and not fear for my life or worse, 

my dignity.

I’m over shutting my mouth and being quiet, just because im scared someone could punish me for raising my voice.

Im over shrinking and bending, so that I will fit into your body, even though you came out of mine. 

Im over walking out of your way and standing in a corner, so that you don’t have to walk in my shadow.

Im tired of excuses and explanations, of people lecturing me about what i'm able to do, where my female appearence restricts me and what impulses and desires other human beings won't control.

I’m angry about my mother for telling me, that I should dress differently, walk faster and never leave the well-lit path, and even that wont stop me from discovering the dark side of this society.

I’m even angrier, because she feels the need to tell me this, beccause she just wants me to be okay and not in danger and not as stupid as she has once been and 

I’m the angriest, because I get it.

And I don’t want to get it. 

I don’t want to be a part of the rape culture, to question my appearance, because me simply existing could get me in life-threatening trouble.

Me wearing a dress might be an invitiation to strangers to take it off.

Me just minding my own business could be interpreted as ‘hey give me attention and comments’ 

And me just breathing, might be the only thing I need to do, to get raped.

I don’t want to hide and cover up who I am so that I might have a chance of surviving.

I don’t want to justify my idea of freedom and expression, 

because someone's idea of freedom is walking around, touching private areas of others,

and the only thing he expresses is his wish to fuck me.

I don’t get why it's my fault, that someone else commits a crime.

I don’t understand, why its my responsibility to keep him from hurting me.

I don’t know, why it’s me, why everything’s wrong with me, when actually, 

everything’s wrong with him, and he’s the only one who should (be) change(d).