I won’t rebut – go on and call me bitch.
Accuse me of controlling tendency,
and mention these when you recite your pitch:
manipulation and effrontery.
Insinuate black magic as a skill
I’ve made my own; suggest that I’m a witch.
Declare I aim to conquer with a will
of iron over silk, and hempen switch.

Who said that words don’t matter spun a lie,
for epithets can stab as sharp as steel.
The names I yell with relish to defy
were splinters aimed for decades at my heel.
But I’ll now model them with pride and glee,
for only ducking can diminish me.