Bi The Way...

this is kind of a free verse poem if you use enough emotion

i don't get why men get a say in what women go through

i don't understand why my brother is allowed to demonize feminism but the second i share my beliefs my father threatens to disown me

as if i'm proud of being related to him

i don't understand why men have the privilege of saying "women aren't oppressed"

yet my fingers instinctively wrap around the chain of keys as self defense

i have never driven a car in my life.

but the keys my mother hands to me become a hunble weapon

and i'm sure men don't know what i'm even talking about

keys? weapons?

but he still hollers at the girl at American Eagle

"looking good baby! nice legs! where you running to, sweet thing?"

further implying that she's merely a thing

he whistles, slowly rolling his car up to her

"i'm talking to you, bitch"

she glares at him, not daring to say a word because he's just trying to be polite

he's just saying

if you don't want it, just cover up

i am sick and i am tired and i am pissed.

but I'm told that i don't have the right to be.