Who is the enemy?
Women, who is the enemy
That defeats us from within?
I think my hands are my enemy
They draw blood from my skin
And food from my throat
And refuse to form the words
That my mouth cannot
I am not a goddess of femininity
I am not a thing of beauty,
Or elegance, or peace
I am rough, and wrong
I am war - women are war
Men fight other men, whilst we,
At home, fight ourselves
