Tired

This poem was initially written as my creative project for my Poetry as Protest course here at Cottey College. I wrote it in response to many events happening around me at the time, such as the election and Roe v. Wade being overturned. It is generally a protest against our patriarchal system and government. It is also me speaking my mind about my frustration, anger, and some more general feelings surrounding the experience of being a woman in the United States. 

Content Warning: This poem contains references to potentially triggering subject matter, including non-consensual physical contact (not sexual, but still unwanted) and threats of violence. Please exercise caution if you choose to read.

Poetry                                                                        Caitlin True,  4th Year English Major, Writing Minor

Tired

Aren't you tired?

I am.

I am so

Fucking tired.

I'm tired

Of walking

Down the

Streets afraid.

Day or night

It doesn't

Matter.

I never

Feel safe.

Even when

Walking

Two blocks

To the

Library

Where I worked

Near my house

I'm tired

Of the assholes

Who whistle from

The safety

Of their cars

While I'm

On the

Sidewalk.

I'm tired of

Doctors

Dismissing

My concerns

Because I'm

A hysterical

Woman who

Doesn't Know

What she's

Talking about.

I must be

Stupid.

I'm tired

Of a bunch of

Old men

Sitting around

A table

Deciding

What I should

Be able to do

With my own

Goddamn body.

They take away

Rights and autonomy

Like they're

Nothing because

Potential lives

Matter more

Than current

Ones.

More than

Me,

More than

Us.

I don't know

Whether to
Scream or

Cry. Maybe both.

God, it's

Exhausting.

I've heard of

Female rage

But no one

Mentions

Female

Exhaustion.

Some days I

Don't see the

Point in

Trying.

In being angry,

In fighting,

Because I'm

So fucking done.

Some days,

I'm exhausted

From holding

Everything back:

My rage that

Courses through

My veins,

Begging me

To let go,

To scream

To shout,

To spit and curse.

I want to

Scream at the

Top of my

Lungs,

"NO. You can't

Touch me.

You don't

Get that

Privilege just

Because you

Think you

Know me.

Familiarity

Does not give

You permission.

So keep

Your hands

To your

Fucking self

THANK YOU!"

I want to

Shout,

As loud as I can

"NO. Don't

Interrupt me

I was talking.

Maybe YOU should

Try shutting up this time."

Though, let's be

Honest, he

Wouldn't know

How to.

I want to

Unhinge my jaw,

Spit venom,

Snarl.

But I can't

Because he

Might kill me

If I do.

Because this

Country and

This culture

Condones

Men's violence

Against women.

I bet you didn't

Expect to hear

"Men" in that

Sentence, right?

They're blameless

Apparently,

No matter

What they do.

And we're

Always blamed

For what we do

And what we don't.

God, I'm tired.

Aren't you?