My Vagina Is Cursed
my vagina is cursed
or so it seems
as every man I lay with
leaves
deserts me
after a few turns
a few thrashes
of my sex
am I a poisoned entity
the life bearer I hold
between my tender thighs
laced with
a male repellent
no
I will not fall victim
to the endless
vicious nature
of these little boys
and their head games
and sex games
and games where
only they are the winner
their legs shaking
after they have had their fill
of filling me
filling me with what they think
makes them men
but truly reverts them
back to their
prepubescent selves
where sex is all they think
and my femininity
is all they smell
like hungry wolves
I will not fall victim
to their mantra
"not all men"
that has so often
convinced me
that they will be different
and give them
what makes me woman
and let them corrupt it
with what makes them man
I refuse to continue
to live in the ignorance
that they too
think of us fucking
as I do
for they do not
they see it
they see me
they see us
all of us
as walking, talking
holders for their cocks
cocks that they treat
with more respect and love
than the beings
that bear their children
I will no longer hold myself second
because it's easier
to ignore my pain
and conform
to their twisted ideals
than it is
to fight
and scream
and reject
and to still be
unheard
there will be
no more costume changes
no more twisted masks
to hide the bold
and sometimes intimidating face
that I call my own
I will no longer
tone it down
and behave how they think
their phallic holding places should
I will wear my eyebrows
harsh and sharp
like the bite of my wit
and my lips
will be painted bright
like the nature of my soul
and if you think
your cries of
"slut" and "whore"
will phase me
you are mistaken
for your gender bias views
and derogatory catcalls
will fall on ears
that are no longer tuned
to the distasteful language
you use
as sickening mating calls
my vagina is not cursed
women
we are not cursed
we are beautiful
and bold
it is the men who see us
as living disposals for their seed
who are cursed
for they
those ignorant fools
those poor little boys
will never understand
the true beauty of a woman
or so it seems
as every man I lay with
leaves
deserts me
after a few turns
a few thrashes
of my sex
am I a poisoned entity
the life bearer I hold
between my tender thighs
laced with
a male repellent
no
I will not fall victim
to the endless
vicious nature
of these little boys
and their head games
and sex games
and games where
only they are the winner
their legs shaking
after they have had their fill
of filling me
filling me with what they think
makes them men
but truly reverts them
back to their
prepubescent selves
where sex is all they think
and my femininity
is all they smell
like hungry wolves
I will not fall victim
to their mantra
"not all men"
that has so often
convinced me
that they will be different
and give them
what makes me woman
and let them corrupt it
with what makes them man
I refuse to continue
to live in the ignorance
that they too
think of us fucking
as I do
for they do not
they see it
they see me
they see us
all of us
as walking, talking
holders for their cocks
cocks that they treat
with more respect and love
than the beings
that bear their children
I will no longer hold myself second
because it's easier
to ignore my pain
and conform
to their twisted ideals
than it is
to fight
and scream
and reject
and to still be
unheard
there will be
no more costume changes
no more twisted masks
to hide the bold
and sometimes intimidating face
that I call my own
I will no longer
tone it down
and behave how they think
their phallic holding places should
I will wear my eyebrows
harsh and sharp
like the bite of my wit
and my lips
will be painted bright
like the nature of my soul
and if you think
your cries of
"slut" and "whore"
will phase me
you are mistaken
for your gender bias views
and derogatory catcalls
will fall on ears
that are no longer tuned
to the distasteful language
you use
as sickening mating calls
my vagina is not cursed
women
we are not cursed
we are beautiful
and bold
it is the men who see us
as living disposals for their seed
who are cursed
for they
those ignorant fools
those poor little boys
will never understand
the true beauty of a woman
♠ ♠ ♠
Hey guys, I wrote this almost two years ago after I had had a string of failed attempts at finding a boyfriend. Although I am now happily in a relationship, I hope this may speak to other young women out there who feel like they are being used. It still holds true for me in a lot of ways, even though I'm in a relationship. I don't allow others to dictate who I should be based on the fact I'm a woman. Sidenote: please don't post comments being all "not all men" and "oh, you hate men" etc, because I will delete them. I'm getting too old to explain myself to people who don't understand feminism and the struggle I went through at the time this poem was written. Thanks, dears.