Unapologetic 2017 | gouache on paper | 24" x 18"

September 27, 2017

For what, anyhow?

For being a woman?

For being feminine (but not always)?

For pink?

For hearts?

For unicorns and sparkle rainbows?

For feeling love?

For feeling love for you?

For feeling love even for people who frustrate the ever living hell out of me sometimes?

For caring enough that my frustration sometimes gets the better of me?

For not always being articulate and poised?

For being flawed?

Because I shared my insights or because my insights were right?

Because I was better at something than you were?

Because I wanted to have sex, just not with you?

Because I didn’t fall in love with you?

Because I said no nicely the first time but it didn’t seem to register?

Because I didn’t want to listen to you whispering in my ear what you wanted to do to my sweet, sweet pussy during Health class and told you so (though, remember, I was the one who got in trouble)?

Because all those times that you grabbed me and shoved your fingers where they don’t belong made you hate yourself even more?

Because I talked about feelings or menstruation or childbirth or breastfeeding or menopause or going gray LIKE I WASN’T EVEN ASHAMED?

Apologize for being curious?

Apologize for asking questions?

Apologize for thinking learning is fun?

Apologize for having interests?

Apologize for feeling joy?

Apologize because you find it hard to stick me into a tidy category?

You want me to say I’m sorry for using a question mark at the end of every sentence?

You think I should say I’m sorry because life is hard sometimes?

For making different choices than you?

Because of Benghazi (are you fucking kidding me with that, still)?

No.

.  .  .

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