If I were to write an autobiography,
I'd write poems on behalf of women
against the predators
to kill them as a death of an object
If I were to write an autobiography
and if I knew that people would respect it
I'd write stories of assault and imprinting–
news of survivors who departed an unusual death
tales of deers who saw their predator in water as clear
and they ran until they were torn down
like bald tyre
I'd select pictures of red silent wars
under bed sheets in white
below an emblem, in the inscription of integrity
If I were set to write an autobiography
I'd write how I could never stand a male
How all that I had ever been through
was majorly objectable
and that I was assaulted with words
and instruments,
that I could never stand up to confront
All the wrongdoings and rights
that I was treated like a corpse when alive
used as a prey since I exist
If I were to write an autobiography
I would write a rejection to belong here
would cite pleasures that lead to conclusions
cite numbered wars and numerous deaths
Under this male territory
If I were to write an autobiography
I'd ask for reform in freedom of speech–
then I'd cite how women would always
keep a count till 12
and not choose to revolt
for the kids need compassion and
men got none
If I were set to write an autobiography
I'd mention all the men of this world
All the wrong things that had happened
All the things that I believe are certain
If I were to write an autobiography
I'd write how ecstasy has left the world
I'd mention the withdrawal of virtue
