My breaths come and go evenly
because I am trying to calm my thundering heart.
My eyes drill deeply into your pores
because I have to commit your face to memory.
My feet tread purposefully
because they are preparing to break into a sprint.
My jutted jaw is held high
because it needs to make you believe I will fight back.
You may regard my smile as a middle finger
because Society has put my hands in mittens.
*Subject: Those darn woman-problems/Response to anyone who has ever said “not all men”