when the boys pull your hair and push you to the groundduring recessI promise not to tell you that it’s because they like you.when the teachers call home to tell me thatyou pushed them to the ground after youI’ll take you out of school early and buyyou your favorite ice cream.when you get older and the boystry to touch you when you don’t want to be touchedI’ll look at you like the sun when you come homewith anger in your fists.they all tell you not to fight fire with firebut that is only because they are afraid of your flames.when the boys yell after you like hyenasyou yell back, baby.I will not teach you to be afraid of your angerso that you look for it in others.I will not make you be the better personbecause you already are.you wanna fight ‘em? fight 'em.don’t you dare apologize for the fierce loveyou have for yourselfand the lengths you go to preserve it.when the boys try to tell you to soften upI hope you make them bleed with your edges.I hope you remember that you are not theirsthat their disappointment in you is not yours.when the boys come to your door with pretty words andangry eyesI hope you show them the anger in yours.I hope you show them just how strong your mommythinks you are.I hope you show them the animal they can’t alwayssee in their own reflection.when the boys come with the intention of hurting youmy advice will always stay the same, my darling:give 'em hell.written by