The following poem was written this past Rosh Hashana in an attempt to sooth my cramps (i.e. feeling as if the walls of my uterus were being butchered by hundreds of tiny razor blades). It worked.
He hides behind biceps and body oil
A masquerade of power and strength
But within this facade of steel
Beats a scared heart
That must be concealed
An indication of pain and fear
Will be received by scorn and ridicule
A hint of tears
Will incur a burst of laughter
He must hide his jealousy
Of the one called the fairer sex
The one who can cry
The one who can feel pain
The one who can express fear
The one who can give life
And endless fountains of love
But what he doesn’t know
Is that the world she lives in
Is the one he controls
By withholding his weakness
He forces her to feel hers
Her cries of sorrow
Come from his abuse
Her unspeakable pain
Is the sound of his fists impacting her ribs
Her terrible fear
Is caused by his storms of violence
The life she gives
Is a sacrifice of her own
Her fountains of love
Run dry by his hate
Soon, her anger will emerge
The one she was forced to suppress
Because the brand of the fairer sex
Is to be made of sugar and spice
But rage must explode nonetheless
Against the world he controls
Against his abuse, his fists, his violence, his hate
His masquerade of power shall collapse
The Virus that runs in her veins
Can never run dry
There is no cure
And there is nowhere to hide
A TRUE RIOT GRRRL NEVER DIES
