April 26, 2015

The Rebel. {Poem}

the rebel

You could tell me I need to grow up,

In order to settle down.

That I need to live by the book in some pretty little life,
yet somehow I know I’d hardly feel alive.

You could say I don’t care
and tell me I need to be more
hmm, what’s that word?
oh right, responsible,
Wait, hold on while I attempt to forget that word again.

You see, these my friends, are the glory days,
We haven’t passed them and they are not yet to come.
They are—now!

So know this;
All attempts to tame me for your comfort,
or groom my actions for your satisfaction,
are fuel to my fire
and even more reason to rebel.

I did not come to fit in,
I did not come to build your pretty life.
I, like a raging wild animal, have a life to devour.

The only thing promised is death,
so I will intensely consume every second until that day.

And I promise it’s okay not to care.
Flip the bird to society,
and ride my own way.

Daring to be different,
Daring to break into the new.
There is no time to be the same!

The ultimate freedom lies here; right inside me.
And as I tear down the walls around me,
and shatter the illusions taught to me,
I joyously embrace the showers of good grace.

Because, while many may find comfort in the number of rats running their same race,
I, like a God, carry the Universe on my back.

So, say what you will,
Judge how you must,

Your projections will not define me,

and your attachments will not confine me,

I am here to lead a way to change,
One superhuman, down right bad *ss b*tch!

You’re either in or you’re out.
But be warned this is one serious f*cking arena.



This is For the Women Who Don’t Give a F*ck. {Adult}


Author: Leah Fortner

Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock

Photo: courtesy of author

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