Episode Details

Do I at least remind you of every girl that made you mad?

Florence and The Machine, Dream Girl Evil

Dear Men,

When you piss a woman off, you are splashing a well of rage

You are tossing a pebble into a fiery, red-hot pond filled to the brim with righteous anger.

Maybe you don’t deserve to be the target of our rage (that day, at least.)

Maybe our reaction is out of proportion. Maybe the rage doesn’t fit the crime.

But like I said.

When you piss a woman off, you are splashing a well of rage

Tossing a pebble into a fiery, red-hot pond

Casting debris into a river that people pollute time and time again

And the thing about rivers is

They overflow

Just like a tide rises each night

And grows even higher on a full moon

When women are full

When we have had enough

When we have e —motherfucking — nough

The tide will rise

The waves will roar

And if you’re not careful, you’ll get swept up in the arms of the sea

The water will settle

The tide won’t be as high in the morning

But all anyone will talk about the next day is the storm last night

How scary it was

So out of control

Dramatic

Wild

Insane

Few will stand in awe of this vast, magical body of water that can transform from a calm, gentle thing into a raging cacophony* overnight

The masses will just say, ‘That was crazy’

She is crazy

Look at that wild sea

Look at that wild woman

Do not poke the bear unless you want to hear its roar.

Do not provoke a woman unless you want to hear her roar.

There’s a reason we women choose the bear, you know.

We’re cut from the same cloth.

We could rip you to shreds with our bare hands if we wanted to.

Like the mothers who lift cars to rescue their babies.

We are so much stronger than you can even begin to imagine.

Weaponizing our strength isn’t our go-to.

Like the bears, we probably won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt us.

And yet.

You keep on insisting.

You fuel the fire

You splash the well of rage

You toss debris in our windy, wide-ranging rivers

You call us crazy when the water overflows

Even after we tried to contain the flood for so long

You act surprised when you throw gasoline at a fire and end up burned

Even after we tried to contain the fire for so long

You start the fires, we put them out

You flood the rivers, we mop up the land

While all the while

You call us crazy

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Also, if you’re feeling fired up after reading this and want to keep fueling your own fire, check out the country murder ballad I wrote.

I was sick a few years ago, and my sink was full of knives and spoons from making lemon honey tea — and thus Knives and Honey was born.

Further recommended listening in this playlist I made for you. I exercised some really impressive self-restraint by not including a song from Wicked Part II that would spoil a lot for those of you who don’t know what happens.

*Also for anyone reading this far, the inner english nerd in me needs you to know that I know I used cacophony in a way that doesn’t completely adhere to the definition, but I really liked it and this is a poem so I’m doing what I want!

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