Powerful

I'm sorry;
But what was that,
you said?
just now - that,
exactly.

You claim I have no power;
that I am only one,
tiny,
a woman;
but you are a fool.

I am a flower not yet bloomed;
and my light grows.
Wait for the supernova
when my petals unfurl.

I am the one who
when the time is right for me
will hold a tiny creation
for nine months,
relying on me,
parasitic but beautiful
until I go through hours of labor
that are
much more painful
than anything you've had to endure.

I am the one who sits there
while I am called a slut;
the one who gets into cat-fights
(appropriately called; we are
very catty, and rude, and horrid
to each other),
who takes the long way,
who stands in front of the bullets.

And, to disconnect from the what,
let me show you the who.

I am powerful;
A child of God
who has defended people
who have done me wrong;
who have abandoned me;
who have betrayed me;
while I stand alone,
never giving up.

I am confused, and frustrated,
Empathetic, caring;
Honest, loyal to the end:
the person who allows people to use me
as a punching bag while
I stand alone and strong.

I have to take medication
for depression and anxiety,
and I watch and I cry as
people suffer;
even the ones who are cruel,
even the ones who are strangers,
even the ones who do not regret.

I am a child of God,
and don't you forget what that means:
I can move mountains
one day
when I need to.

Inside my heart sits a light that
I will share with you
If you are brave enough, and true enough,
to stand up for something right,
and break out of your selfish bonds
and realize you are powerful too.

You claim that I am powerless
and you are so very wrong.

For it is fear
that holds people back;
Your fear holds you in a prison;
you do not want to see change.

But I am greater than that:
I will not be afraid.

I am a flower
and when I bloom
I will be a supernova.

You can't take that away.

I Am Sick (An "I Am" poem)

I am sick
Of feeling guilty at the slightest offense
But only if it would offend someone who
Is a minority in my country.

I am tired
Of having to explain myself
Because I have an opinion
That doesn't involve me bowing down
To someone who was once oppressed;
Or maybe still is.

I am frustrated
With the fact no-one is past name-calling
And petty insults, things we should have
Put behind us:
instead, the youngest people
Understand more.

I am sick
Of you thinking that my white privilege
Means I haven't suffered,
Or that the fact I am straight,
With genitalia that matches my gender,
Means I have no right
To say anything.

I am tired
Of silence.

I am frustrated
Because maybe
We could get along.

I am white.
I am cisgendered.
I am heterosexual.
I am opinionated.
I am equal to you.
Not greater, not lesser.

I am allowed to have my opinion
And say it without having to
Feel guilt or explain myself.

You can hate me;
But I am not guilty of a crime.
I do not hate you.

I am filled with love,
To the infinities,
And just because I disagree,
Doesn't change the fact
That I do care.

I am a member of an exclusive club
Where the only price to pay
Is giving up your hatred
And feeling confident in your opinions.

I am tired
Of silence.
So I have changed.

White and Cisgendered

i think it's sad
that I felt so honored and blessed
to have someone who wasn't white or cisgendered
defend those who ARE white and cisgendered
against people being jerks.

i think it's sad
that I felt so upset and confused
to have someone who wasn't white or cisgendered
defend those who ARE white and cisgendered
get so many death threats
they had to change an account
and hope internet anonymity
was good enough protection

i think it's sad
that I will write this poem
and because I am white and cisgendered
because apparently I haven't been oppressed,
people will hate me.

let me tell you something.

oppression comes from many places;
the founding fathers created a country
to try and avoid the minority having
tyranny over the majority,
the majority having tyranny over the minority,
or a small amount of people with power.

yes, i am oppressed;
just not in the same way as you.