I wear lightning strikes on my hips and thighs as battle scars to remind me who I am, and what I have overcome.
I bear legion lines up and down the open plains of my arms to show that I am not afraid of war, and that I have won time and time again.
I may not be feminine,
And I may be built,
And thick around my everywhere,
But I am a warrior, I am the queen of the Amazons, I am a Spartan.
And that makes me the hottest damn woman alive.
I will not bend, I will not snap like a twig at the slightest pressure.
I will fight like the Helvetians, who burnt their own towns to say, “We will never come back.”
I am Casticus, I am Orgetorix, I am Caesar in the Gallic Wars
But I am stronger than all of them because I have one thing more-
I am a woman, and a warrior too.
I will dish out frozen-over Hell to anybody who tells me I am less,
Because revenge is a dish best served with a nice cold can of whoop-ass.
And while sticks and stones can certainly break my bones,
Angry words will never even touch me.
For I will shoot them down with arrows of flaming confidence and poison intellect,
And they will crash and burn at your feet.
For I am a woman first, a warrior second, and never, ever a slave to anybody.