Hand Over Fist

This is a hand.
This is a fist.
This is a touch.
This is a kiss.
This is you.
This is me.
This is a no.
This is, "Stop being such a bitch."
This is not even being able to define the word.
This is, " You're acting crazy!" 
This is that drunken dorm room night ten years ago.
This is, "She's asking for it."
This is on the subway, or at the beach.
This is, "I have something to prove." 
This is still a no.
This is bros before hoes.
This is making the persecutors more famous than the victims.
This is, calling her my woman 
This is looking over your shoulder as you walk to your car.
This is television, the media, and what Dad taught me.
This is, "I feel uncomfortable wearing short skirts because they're all looking at me."
This is, "Bitch you better act right! 
This is slut shaming.
This is player, pimp, and ladies man.
This is being patronized.
This is, "Oh you know I'm just messing around."
This is being afraid to speak up, because what good will it do.
This is that word bitch again. 
This is having to tell him, "I have a boyfriend," because the only thing he respects is another man.
This is comments on an internet blog. 
This is, while you might not have harassed a woman, all women know what it's like to be harassed.
This is rolling your eyes and saying, "Oh brother we get it." 
This is, "No I don't think you do."
This is stop being such a tease.
This is being willing to die for your country, but still being afraid you might be raped.
This is the realization that I will never understand.
This is a weapon.
This is the realization that I am the problem.
This is a weapon.
This is the realization that I am the solution.
This is teaching your son how to be a human being, instead of teaching him how to be a man.
This is changing the culture.
This is a hand.
This is a fist.
This is learning the difference.
This is choosing the hand over the fist.