Women of The Night.

If I am sexualised by being,
I may as well charge money for it.
Earn every pretty penny,
Undressing for a man I’ve just met.

We play the part,
Pretend we adore you,
When you’re drunk and you’re lonely,
At four in the morning.

We are submissive,
You can control us,
You own us, you own us…

You think that you own us.

You think you’ve enslaved us.
A zoo for your entertainment,
To grope and to gawk at,
A prisoner in your imagination.

But women are clever and we twist things, you see.
Earn a living from the sexualisation of society.

You call us sluts and you call us whores,
When we’re crawling towards you down on all fours.

You try to degrade us.
Act like you’re blameless,
When you throw your money,
We’ll laugh in your faces.

We’ll count it all out,
You only have yourselves to thank.
And then we’ll be laughing,
All the way to the bank.

Wolves, Vultures and Hyenas

They say if your skirt is short then you deserve male attention.
When I was intoxicated was I asking to be violated?

What satisfaction do you get out of groping me?
Stangers’ hand smacking my rear end as if he owns me.

Its time for us to bite back, to bare our teeth, to fight back.
To howl at the moon like a wolf pack.

So many girls share these experiences, it’s time for us to band together and realise the seriousness.
Time to question why our rights are being desecrated, and why we are degraded,
why we’re reduced to mere objects just for male enjoyment.

Why we’re made to feel uncomfortable when we walk down the street.
I’ve seen boys circling girls like vultures looking for a piece of meat to eat.

So please excuse me when the hackles raise on my back,
and I howl to the rest of my wolf pack.

One of my boys proceeded to defend me,
to point out the absolute audacity,
that putting your hands on a stranger is the epitome of vulgarity.

I glared at the hyena who performed the obscenity,
at his sharp protruding teeth when he flashed a grin right at me.

One hyena did not like the accusation,
drunk on a mixture of rage and intoxication,
he pounced at our wolf without hestitation.

Something snapped inside me, whether it was stupidity or lunacy,
I decided to retaliate.

I threw a slap and he threw me to the pavement.

They scattered into the night,
intimidated by women and wolves asserting the right,
to walk down the street without being taunted,
assaulted and given attention that we don’t want.

Emasculated by women who are not afraid,
we are the generation who will not be blamed,
for wearing a skirt or having a drink,
we will not be taught to shrink.

It turned out to be bleeding on the brain and a fractured skull,
that my brave wolf-boy suffered from.
He said that he would do it again,
if it meant defending women to the very end.

I hope those men get what they deserve,
skinned into a rug of hyena fur.
It won’t be the last hyena I’m sure,
who decides to grope me with his dirty paws.

But we are wolves and we are strong,
we will snap,
bite and howl
when wronged.

Pull my tail again, I dare you.
I will bare my teeth,

and rip you in two.

Fever Ray – The Wolf

Sirens

I have watched my sisters be hunted,
Legs pried open, violated and corrupted,
We decided that men were not to be trusted.

So we evolved, two legs merged into one,
With gills and scales that glimmered under the sun,
We are not a prize to be won.

With voices like angels,
We lured lust-filled, drunken sailors,
Into the depths of the water’s dangers.

With tails, we evolved a desire to kill,
To seek revenge for those who did us ill,
And we watched in delight as the thrashing ocean fell still.

Storm Goddess

Remember us together,
Lying in your bed?
Listening to a song of storms,
“I love the rain,” I said.

You said I was your dream,
But I couldn’t make you stay.
I was much too raw for you,
and so you tossed me away.

My hair, a wild tornado,
My eyes are stormy skies;
You may try to break my spirit,
But you will never see me cry.

I am a Storm Goddess,
The bastard child of Zeus.
Revel in my power.
Fear what I can do.

I can roar like thunder,
With the strength of Hercules.
Beg and plead for mercy,
Down there on your knees.

I hope that you enjoyed,
The gift I sent to you,
Happy Birthday, darling,
The storm is here for you.

A tiny dash of lightening,
Handful of sprinkled rain,
Each lovely, little droplet,
Water torture to your brain.

I hope my song of storms:
My lament, drove you mad.
A reminder that you lost,
The best you’ve ever had.

I hope that when you hear that sound –
That sound that I adore:
Rain against the windowpane,
You will think of me, forevermore.