Why I am a Fierce Bitch

Every morning I paint my faceWith three words stuck on repeatFierceDevastatingSickeningEvery day I pound the pavementWith three words stuck on repeatToughHardUntouchableMy look is my lifeAnd my walk keeps me safeBecause I know what happens to young brownTrans womenIf we are not being harassedBeatenOr killedThen our voicesAnd the narratives that we have written for ourselvesAre being ignoredDiscountedOr invalidatedWhether I am at a queer partyOr walking home late at nightI need to be readAnd read wellPerhaps that’s why I get so frustratedWhen the brush doesn’t do precisely as I demandI look in the mirror knowingThat to fuck upIs to take a risk I can’t affordPerhaps thats why my faceIs carefully sculpted into two expressions“Don’t fuck with me”and“Really don’t fuck with me”I look into the eyes of others knowingThat to show weaknessIs to invite deathThey were surprisedWhen he told them that I was a sweetheartHe told meI see youAnd I am shockedThat anyone has the eyesTo truly see meAnd what a blessing that is.Every night I lay next to my loverWith three words stuck on repeatLoveLoveLove