You are an angry woman
Of course, I am. I’m bloody furious.
Because
my babies ate my time
my choices were ridiculous
and then I couldn’t go back.
Because
equality is a big fat sneaky lie
and opportunity doesn’t knock
it shows its hairy arse through the window
then flees.
Because
while I was learning that the game is impossible
and trying harder only makes you tireder,
I lost myself in a schoolbag or a laundry pile.
And now
it feels like midnight’s about to chime.
They said women couldn’t be funny, or clever, or in charge.
Or not if they wanted to be sexy.
Who gives a damn about sexy?
They’re going to hate you if you try.
But they said you could have it all,
ticking every box,
including the ones for slowly going
mad and not having anything left
at all.
