Lime-ericks

On April 23rd, Beyoncé released her intense and stunning visual album, Lemonade. She was angry and demanding respect. No one fucks with Queen Bey. I loved it. As a cis-gendered woman, I feel like I need to be "nice." Like I need to say, "that's okay, that's not a big deal, don't worry about it," when inside I feel fire and rage. Beyoncé inspired me to express my anger. I've been wronged, just like everyone has. I can't change what happened, but I can control my reaction and I can turn my rage into words, and I can turn these words into poems. Beyoncé was given lemons and she made Lemonade. I was given limes, so I wrote "Lime-ericks." I feel like this will be an on-going series, but here are the first few I wrote.

I don't need your advice or attention
You think you lack any pretension
But you gave me a rise
And your dick's not a prize
You're beneath me on every dimension

My hubris is something I claim
And I may be self-righteous by name
The anger I feel
Will silently heal
I refuse to give in to the shame

Disclaimer: Lemonade is about far more than infidelity. It's a personal piece of art with so many complexities that I don't pretend to understand. This is not a think-piece or an interpretation of Beyoncé, race, or culture. These are my own words. I am am a feminist and I preach respect and I give respect.