Not For Sale

I am not for sale.

My womb, my creation, my expression,

Are not for sale.

The way I choose to dress,

Which shoe I put on first,

How I do my hair

Is not up to you, to decide.

Thousands of years of patriarchy have clouded over the sky and so now you can’t see clearly,

Blindly grabbing at the mist to that which was never yours to hold

My body, my sexuality, my dreams

Are not for sale

Can you see now? 

Light has begun to penetrate the darkness.

Rays of light breaking through the clouds illuminating the imbalance and oppression that was… and is.

So now you grip tighter.

Trying to grasp control of the swell of life that awakens within me.

Desperate, naked, and afraid of the unleashing.

Who would we be, if women were free?

…

A world where we are valued beyond the size of our ass and quietness of our voice…

An emancipation of the “good girl” that you needed me to be,

to keep you feeling safe and free 

in your lofty, imagined castle.

I wonder, can you feel it? … The earth beneath you shaking?

The veil has been torn, the ground split open.

…It is too late…

We, have arrived.

Riding on the wings of the Phoenix,

We Rise.

Patroned by the women who have come before us,

We hold their stories in our bones…

We have heard their cries,

Our hearts and souls rise up to sing along 

A chorus, a plea, 

to return to the place where our souls can be…   

Freedom.

Freedom.

Freedom.

So dear sir, 

Can you hear our call now?

Our voices grow louder each day

Joining the howl of Mother Earth as she breaks forth

Tired and weary from the abuse, misuse, and taken for granted.

We are not yours to own.

…

The pink-slip you hold in your hand, in your heart,

has expired.

Bursting forth in this new age,

Self-anointed and sovereign

I stand. We stand.

Arm in arm with Earth Mother, our sisters, and ancestors that came before.

…

Hear my voice, hear our voice…

I, am not for sale.

We, are not for sale.