I was mistaken,

misled even –

thanks to misinformation.

I was misunderstood.

I misrepresented

the misuse

of my misery.

I mistreated

myself – misruled the misfit

fighting against mistakes

in place of truth.

Now I am ‘mister listen here.’

You fault my sex because

I have a womb and two breasts.

Do not dismiss my pain

as a fantasy of the brain.

Do not wave your hand

and reprimand my reproductive organs

because you can’t talk ‘women’s problems’.

Do not bite your lip and fork your tongue

into creating the syllables needed to spell ‘you are wrong’.

Do not take me for a conjurer of fake news.

Believe the tears, the fears and the hot water bottle bruise.

Do not push me away this time

because one of you alone ‘cannot be right’.

Do not throw away my lifeline

because you do not believe in my fight.

I was mistaken,