Stop the irony

I don’t like it when they choke me, talk to me condescendingly or penetrate me

With uneducated opinions, privileges and penises they never learned how to use

The irony when I’m playing trials fusion and a bloke says “I know who’s riding the unicorn.” I’m winning consecutively with a tko panda. Here’s where you can put your misogyny.

The irony when they shout protect yourselves, then brag and joke about sexual aggression. Like we are responsible for their indecency.

The irony when I wake up to a friend with his hand down my pants, remembering he once said he hated Trump grabbing women by the pussy.

The irony when they say we imprison rapists, but don’t look at legitimate statistics.

We condemn those who say feminism or heaven forbid… patriarchy.

Like it’s a dirty word to want equality.

You can get defensive and say women are man-hating, but our whole lives you tell us to be afraid of you. Don’t wear that. Close you legs. Get home before dark. Text me when you get home.

I’m not saying women shouldn’t protect themselves, I’m saying they shouldn’t have to. We need to shift the blame and make people responsible for what they do and say, which is what you’re preaching anyway. Men can control themselves, but they when they choose not to, that’s their wrongdoing, shame them.

We all hate from ignorance or fear of others constricting our rights. But men have no rights over women’s bodies, especially in countries where they’re considered commodities. I’m not violent with men who are not violent with me, but honestly I’d prefer safety in a world dominated by an entitled mentality.

STOP THE IRONY

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They fuck women like blow up dolls

They fuck women like blow up dolls

He sits alone

Parents not home

Wanking off to a girl chew a bone

He watches, watches

Years go by

Fucking women till they start to cry

But they don’t know what’s on the other side

 

They fuck women like dogs

Bark for me, give me your loyalty

Tell me you want me, please me

And I’ll spread my cum all over your body like I just made a masterpiece

But they don’t know what’s on the other side.

 

They please men like servants

Let me take it when you want it

I’ll cry for you, I’ll sing for you

Just tell me that I’m worth it

I’ll stroke your ego so it doesn’t bruise

Then I’ll take the bruises instead and pretend I’m well fed.

 

But here’s what’s on the other side

A woman with a body that reacts differently to the way that you fuck me

And yes, if I’m not cumming that means you’re doing it badly.

There’s a breakdown of communication

When sex for women leads to dissatisfaction

 

So maybe it’s time for a reality check

I know that you’ll go unless I get on my knees and blow

I’m yelling louder, because I’m hoping you’ll ejaculate faster.

I’m only participating in this, because I’m not fully conscious

My understanding of sex with men now, is that my autonomy means so little

And the fact you’ve ejaculated everyday for 6 months and I haven’t done so once, screams everything.

So I say fuck men, but not literally, ever again.

 

Locked in a box

Locked in a box and they threw away the key

No one out there to rescue me

Locked in a box, they hung and pointed at me

Screamed and shouted, but they ignored me.

Shamed and blamed they condemned me to a fate

Like I was meat that they could ravage on a plate

You did it, you did it. You asked for it, they laugh.

What a freak. What a whore. It’s their word, it’s their law.

I cried I froze. Curled in a ball with no clothes.

No longer happy or blissful. I was gone, I felt owned.

Wrapped in their privilege and choked on their scorn.

Help me, help me I’m going I’m fading.

You liar, you liar. It’s you that’s faking.

You’re hyper vigilant? Let’s scare you

You can’t sleep? We’ll make you.

You can’t move forward? We’ll push you

Don’t want me? I’ll rape you

The sadists can smell your pain

And no one cares unless they want to do the same.

Repetition from those unworthy, who will never have me.

All that’s left is my box and their insecurity.

Beaten, ruined, with their lack of empathy.

Hide it, shame. Reveal it, shame.

Jokes on them, jokes on me.

Progress sets you free

But no one opens that door

And no one will hear my plea.

So I hope that you got what you wanted Brody.

Because your impression management and their tactful blindness killed me.

No, no. I didn’t want it.

But I was too afraid to shout it.

No, no. I didn’t ask for it.

Not the tiny dick, the counselling sessions or the PTSD shtick.

Or realising the rape culture does exist

Not the Stockholm syndrome or the nights I cried alone.

Telling myself it gets better, it will be okay

Only to realise that I’m wrong 2 years later.

I don’t want to hear uninformed opinions when you have no idea what it’s like to be on the fucked side of a cultural taboo.

Locked in a box and they threw away my right to safety.

And all I want is for the world to change around me.

rapeculture

Tasting Hypocrisy

Racism isn’t patriotism just like fallacy isn’t reality. So stop using dry ideology to grasp a sense of authority.

It’s time to raise up and hold up our own. Because our humanity is our reality and that is our home. Founded in a love that unites us, a divinity that inspires us and a warmth that supports us.

Your parents were worse granted, but that doesn’t mean that the seed wasn’t planted. Because I feel it in your tone, I hear it in your laugh. I see it in your jokes and I smell it in your disgust. Just because we are a minority, doesn’t mean that your majority equates to authority.

Think about what you say “n****” “vegans” “triggered” “I’ll rape ya” “that is so gay”. It’s not a time for flawed tradition, when people fighting for rights deserve recognition.