A LOVE LETTER

A LOVE LETTER

You better start listening to us!

Because we bleed.

Blood.

Every month.

So, don’t you dare telling us, we should keep our voices down.

To smile, when we want to scream.

To show our anger, our lust, our laughter just nice and easy.

Not be hysterical.

To soften our sobs with tissues.

Because sad women make you feel uneasy.

But guess what?

The women of this earth are sad.

And so freaking angry!

Because men are breaking into our mother, into the soil and take her fruits without care.

Men are handing our children weapons to kill other children.

Men are violating us – or sell us like a thing, every goddam day.

Men are making laws about our bodies.

Or telling us, which parts to better hide.

So we don’t tempt them, silly girls.

Well YES.

We are angry.

We are so fucking furious, we could explode!

But instead of shouting out our rage, we hold it.

We nag, we beg, we burn out.

And I swear you, we’ve known the fire.

But still, we burn.

And keep our voices low.

Because we are too afraid, you cannot take it.

That you will hurt us.

Or leave.

Ignore us.

Be offended like a little boy.

Well, stop playing small, because you’re scared of your own gender.

That’s not the way.

Fuck!

We want you to stand!

To take a stand.

Every time you hear a sexist joke.

When women are laughed at or shamed for feeding their child in public.

When you see that guy following that girl …

Go speak to him.

Teach him to honor women. All women.

To also honor his own sacred sexuality.

But to hold it.

To keep a clear head.

To be a man.

A father.

A brother.

Step out on the streets and fight alongside your sisters.

And don’t duck away, when they shout out their rage.

Show that you can take it and carry it with us.

And maybe more than all: Listen!

To our screams.

Our pain.

Our sadness and fury.

No comment.

No advice.

And only then, when we were finally able to share and be heard,

Then we can talk.

Then we can soften our voices.

And have to most amazing sex you could ever imagine.

So juicy.

So alive.

So true.

But not, until you witnessed and honored ALL our feelings.

Because we bleed.

And we won’t shut up.