2.20.16

Dear boys:

 

We have a problem.

 

No girl, young lady, or grown woman is unaware of what they wear. When the cat calls are pelting down on all of us, we are given the right to keep going? We deserve to be strolling down cat walks with all this cat talk. As if using our own two feet to carry us down the street is a privilege and self defense is taking our irhgts as humans too far?! As if using our bodies for expression and empowerment is an excuse for oppression and harassment?!

 

We have a problem.

 

When rape whisltes become the primary instrument for girls in the junior high band in order to promote a higher education. Each of them receive a guide to modesty and avoidance for their high school graduation. We feed women to society like we feed trees to paper machines printing your playboy magazines. College graduate with a PhD, but too scarred from her PTSD to  do a thing with her hard earned degree. Higher education didn't save her from anything.

 

We have a problem.

 

A woman is sexy until she speaks up for herslef. Then, as if you have the right to be angry with a girl who has the gift of self respect, you strip her of not only her vlothing, but also her dignity. You're stealing more than her virginity. 

 

We have a problem.

 

A shoulder, a collar bone, a knee cap, things we all own, "turns you on"?! If it's just a switch, then learn to turn it off. One day you may wake up to look in the mirror and lose self control on yourslef. I was a girl not allowed to leave her room witha  dress above her knees les  my father sees and lord knows what would happen because I was never permitted to experience showing my knees. I was a girl that wore sweaters through the summer, even to parties because someone's mom would call home and tell my mother my shoulders were showing and my face wouldn't show for weeks. Boys were running around in shorts and tank tops with ripped sides while I sat on the side line covered in cotton. This is for my safety.

 

We have a problem.

 

You lack self control. That's not a question. It's a fact. You give yourself permission to be relaxed in your discipline of self respect and respect for others. We could say whatever we want if we take our shirt off, but if our tits were a pair of eyes, would you have the self control to stare at them and speak your mind?

 

We have a problem.

 

You're allowed to have a good time, but the moment we disorient ourselves, we lessen our humanity and are objectified even more severely. We can wake up not remembering or feeling empty and you can blame it all on the party. What's in our cups gets us in bed but we idn't put that drug in our drink and the bartender doesn't care or didn't see. How dare you treat us like animals that you capture and test. Only this test is to see if she's good in bed and the answer is always no because she can't even hold her head up let alone know how to stop what she sees. And she seees it all.

 

We have a problem.

 

The answer is not awareness. The solution is not avoidance. The weapon is not intolerance. This is not a problem that we, as females can "fix". But for some reason, the victim is left responsible to produce an anecodte to help themselves. I have news. The problem is not in us; it's in you.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741