"Bitch."
The seemingly violent word eclipses
my nonviolent walk home
because I dared to ignore you.
I used to wither, you know.
Used to be crushed under the weight
when they spoke words like that
specifically to dehumanize me.
No more. I refuse to be darkened
by the words of shallow spirited men
birthed from the very wombs
they do not respect.
You called me a bitch
so now, I will wear it as coronet
reclaim every insult you throw
and you ain't seen nothing yet.
You've just made me angry
prompted the animal hiding
inside my rib cage, so take
these words as a fair warning;
Never again trivialise
the power of my sisters and I
because you only do it out of fear
of women stronger than you.
And you know what bitches do
when they smell fear, don't you?
We howl.
And then we hunt.