BEING A FEMINIST

Photo Courtesy: Pixaby

Bosom full of pride

While being called a feminist,

Now, longs to escape sudden rages.

Rages capable of boiling blood,

And heating the streaming tears.

Feeling like epitome of justice

While being called a feminist,

Now, longs to escape critics.

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Critics capable of making me shrug

And confusing me for aggression.

Mind full of articles of law

While being called a feminist,

Now, longs to face reality.

Reality where speeches can be faked

But my dreams of equality can’t be.

Body fallen into reality

While escaping surrealism,

Now, longs to be in pain.

Pain of being unloved due to my gender

But I’ve known none.

Pain of disparity in books

But I’ve been given the best.

Pain of being touched without my consent

But I say “NO” as a rebellion.

Pain of sleeping at cattle shed during my period

But I get extra care then.

My calm facade you see, 

My mind’s calm too you think.

Not long ago do I forget my own blessings,

Until I hear demons pull down humanity.

Now I long to know,

What’s more important?

Being a feminist or a human being?