This isn’t another rape poem

This isn’t another plea

This isn’t another story about

The howling of our mothers

from being married at fourteen

The reek of alcohol from shanty pub

Where our fathers go and commit adultery

The bloody wounds on our wrists

From being chained by male chauvinists

The white sheets welcoming a bride

For we always have to prove our purity

Being a man isn’t easy

You have to prove your masculinity

By exploiting our fertility

The more hymens you break

The more you prove your virility

Extra points for exerting force

for overstepping your boundaries

But this isn’t another rape poem

This isn’t another plea

For this is a threat

Before you assent to

Trespassing our dignity

Think about our powerful legacy

For when Draupadi was molested,

she washed her hair

with the blood of her own enemies

How Kali, bloodthirsty and fierce

Danced on the constraints of patriarchy

with a garland made of demon’s heads

dangling around her dark, sacred skin

Or how Saraswati picked up a pen instead

And waged a war against society

These goddesses were still women who bled

women who crossed swords with patriarchy

Leaving their mark since centuries

So before you embody rape culture

Before you disdain femininity

Think about how we are together

Not another rape poem

Not another plea

But a living,

breathing

threat

to misogyny.