LADY DEE

He was an arrogant piece of shit, and that nigga deserved everything that came his way.

Do I feel sad about the way things ended for him? Maybe, I am human after all, and the death of another human is always unfortunate, more so when the person that died is your husband, but then again, he brought it upon himself quite literally.

Do I feel sorry or remorseful for the things I did? Absolutely not; I feel like a Goddamned Patriot and a wealthy one at that. An opportunity presented itself before me to save my people from the hands of that monster without any bloodshed whatsoever, and I took it. I didn’t know they would treat him the way they did, but I doubt it would have mattered regardless.

I ask you, ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, which one of you here wouldn’t do the same to protect your nation. Before you all begin judging me ask yourselves this does the end not justify the means if the end is the protection of innocent young men from meaningless slaughter.

Sure, the elders of my town might have paid me a large amount of money for the job, but as a wise man once said, “If you’re good a something, never do it for free”, but that’s beside the point.

The point is this hundreds and thousands of wives had a husband to grow old with, children had fathers to raise them, and mothers had sons to bury them, and all of that wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for me, if it weren’t for my brilliant mind, beautiful and sexy ass booty.

How did the history books think to reward me for my notable acts and services to my people? By making me into the villain, being a villain, I can accept honestly.

The Heroes and Villains of any good story are a matter of who is telling it. But what hurts me is the demeaning classless condescending way they went about it. Feel free to despise and hate me, but what you don’t do is reduce the intensity and luminosity of the wild flare of bright colours my character exuded to a mere black and white portrait.

What you won’t do is reduce me into a meaningless, worthless footnote, a foolish attempt at advice to warn young men against women like me. As if young men could possibly resist women like me.

Then again, these books were written by ugly misogynistic old virgin men that despised women like me. Men who were terrified of the idea of women who were as wild as they were beautiful and sinful. Men who cut off their Penises in protest against their uncontrollable attraction to women like me.

I met with a few of them.

I fucked a few of them.

They’re all the same. They loathed us so much, not for who we were but for our power over them. So you can even in a sense say it was not us they really loathed but themselves, their lust-driven weakness. We were audacious, unsubmissive and uncontrollable, deep down, they wanted the wild cats but could only afford domestic ones, so let’s just say we threatened their fragile hypocritic egos.

Look closely if you think I’m being overly dramatic; read your history books properly, and you’ll see what I mean. You’ll see the taboo-like way I and my sisters are represented.

Ask Jezebel she’ll tell you, ask Potiphar’s Wife, ask Eve. If the woman out of whose pains and screams the sons of men crawled out could be labelled and spoken of as she is talked about what chance do I really have. What chance does a mere Palestinian whore like me have? A Palestinian whore. A mere Palestinian whore that brought one of the mightiest men that ever lived to his knees.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I promise you I’m not here to ask for your forgiveness, nor am I here to seek validation or approval from you. I’ve been slut shamed and called a witch for over two thousand years, so trust me when I say there’s nothing you can say that I haven’t heard before, in English, Hindu, Hebrew, Greek and million other languages.

You can sentence me to another two thousand years of negative PR for I all care. Your silly little words, letters, and books don’t mean shit to me. I’m here for one thing and one thing only: to take the respect I deserve and have rightfully earned.

To take the crown off that low-budget “Pick Me” version of me, Esther. Melt it to bits and share to different brothels across so the girls there know they are also Queens. The real Queens.

My name is Delilah but you can me Dee Dee or Lady D and I want to give a big shout-out to all the gold diggers, hoes and sluts on the streets. You guys have taken the game to another level and I’m really proud.

Originally published at http://saferoom940581175.wordpress.com on April 10, 2022.