Divine Woman

Men have oppressed us because of their fear and hatred.
He thinks to himself “Do what you want. No one can stop you”. Men have raped people because of their fear and hatred.
The law can’t touch him.
Men have created laws about people who have a uterus because of their fear and hatred. He’s holding the gun.
His fear and hatred were born from wanting power; from wanting control. He has the shot on her.

Her body grows a forest.
Her beat could be a chorus; a melody that nurtures.
She’s compared to nature, every crevice is beautiful; greater. So she’s told to get rid of each piece of her; danger.
As it’s forbidden to relish who she is.
She is shunned when she feels beautiful in her own skin. Her body is everyone’s before she can love it.
Every part of her is taken with every look that they give her. She is judged to the bone.
Why is her body more relevant than her mind?
Her story is as important as a crumb of a cookie that a man took a bite of. He chewed slowly to savor the taste.
That taste was her blood, sweat, and tears. Her rights were erased
Swallowed, violated, and thrown away.

He keeps his eyes on the target. Click. Clack.
And leaves his finger on the trigger.

He says that a woman should be dainty and respectful, Modest but sexy,
Quiet but laugh at jokes, Skinny but curvy,
Smart but not too intelligent,
Have long hair but only on her head,
And to wear makeup but only to a certain extent.

Of course, a woman should be perfect but not too perfect.
Of course, a woman should be the things a man wants, a man needs.

Of course, a woman should be at his beck and call.
Of course, a woman is not capable of standing up tall.

Every mistake she makes is taken harsher. Every emotion she feels is told to be larger. Taught from a young age that
Her words are only as worthy as her appearance, And even then how can she please them?
A better question is, why should she?

Slipping through the cracked foundations they have built They don’t have a plan to fix it.
They like to see us crooked and wilt.
Falling into a dangerous path, but it’s only what they wanted. They told us to be submissive, quiet, and compliant.

Filled with disdain, day by day.
She lives to say that the world would be a better place. That she does not need to look a certain way to be heard. Anyone who disagrees is just another weed in her garden.
She can pick and choose when and what to pluck, without your commotion.

Your bias does not make us lesser, it makes you the oppressor. When we stand up for ourselves, we are not the aggressor.

Is it ridiculous to not want to surrender?
To stay within a social construct that was built to keep us in.

Because who decided that a man’s word rules over the creators of humankind?
The words of men about women are as insignificant as one ant compared to an elephant.

So let’s rewrite the lines,
The script that society has provided and That men have forsaken,
Because it does not do anyone justice except for themselves.

A man might hold a gun, but a woman knows how to disarm it.
A man might think he has the shot, but a woman is a moving target.

Because unfortunately for him,
We can take two, three, four bullets at a time, We won’t drop until he stops.
And she will rise and put the bullets aside, Unlike him, she’s not ruthless and vile, She can kill him with a smile.

Because she is cynical, and insane for speaking her mind. She’s got an army.
She is the army.
Tired and bruised, she keeps standing tall.
Fighting this fate, but this fate was not her destiny, nor her final destination. She has no apologies.
So she’s trying to level up because giving up is not an option, it’s not in our vocabulary. She’s not going down, not without a fight, not without another sick look in her eyes.
We are not willing to compromise.

She puts her palms on the barrel of his gun.
But her bravery is forever recognized in his cowardice.

He takes the shot, but she leaves bliss.
Her demonstration, and the demonstrations of millions of people do not die in vain Because each hand that pushes against the ignorance of man,
Creates a domino effect, and the dominoes never end. Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Only this time it’s not a gun, it’s the dominos, and we are all fighting back. Woman.
Unapologetic

Divine.
There is a fury, a passion, in her blood, in her veins. Click. Clack.
We are near.

Author: Nitika Sathiya