I am a woman.
I bleed onto this earth with devotion.
I show my roots to the world with courage.
For I am not ashamed of my body,
Only frustrated that it’s not fully mine.
They say I have rights,
Yet their actions say otherwise.
Still, I walk with determination,
Dodging the words of men,
Sexualized with each step.
I am seen as fragile,
I am seen as hysterical,
I am seen as dramatic,
I am seen for what I am not.
Am I weak for fighting?
Am I “less than”?
For my paycheck reflects this notion.
I will not hide within their shadows.
I will not run from their words.
I will not doubt because of their actions.
I join the hands of my sisters, mothers, aunts,
Of fathers, brothers, uncles, and friends.
We rise together,
A revolution driven by love.
No wall will hold us back,
No glass ceiling will hold us in.
We are strong.
We are radical.
We are feminists.
And each month I’m reminded,
For the blood on my hands is my own.
I am a woman,