To Be Small
And I am thinking about how I have to be afraid to be a woman
(when I am as powerful as any man).
And I am thinking about how I'll never be enough for them
(when I can achieve as much as any man).
And I am thinking about how hard it is to grow up in a world where my gender is viewed as an inferior, when the same blood courses through our veins and the same air is pumped through lungs that are painted by identical proteins and our bones are composed of the same atoms that once made up stars.
And I am thinking it's unfair that my chromosomes determine my stature
(when we are only separated by one letter).
And I am thinking that those in power leave much to be desired
(when all are fighting to control my feminine frame).
And I am thinking about how one day, my daughter will not have to be shoved down below the feet of men to please those who would never know what it was like to be forced to cover her radiant body because “boys will be boys,” whatever that means.
And I am thinking that I will not shrink to make room for those men
(when they think that I am property).
And I am thinking that boys have no infinite right to my skin
(when I have never given my consent).
And I am thinking that I deserve to have a louder voice when dealing with my fragile heart and my protective womb and all of my nerves that feel every bit of denigration towards my identity, because nobody owns this body except for me.
And I am thinking that it's unfair that “boys will be boys”
(when I am wondering who that makes me).
And I am thinking that I am tired of being cheapened
(when I am capable of being so much more).
And I am thinking that instead of teaching girls to be small, so that boys may be big, we should teach boys to treat girls like they are human beings too.
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