Blooming

This year I learned

that my body didn’t belong to me

and that sexuality didn’t matter

because men who thought they owned me

decided that I didn’t matter.

 

Girls around me

aching

and crying

and loosing themselves

all because of a few words

from old men

who didn’t understand

what it meant to be whistled at on the streets,

getting told that your legs are nice

or that you have a nice rack

and hey baby, I can show you a good time tonight

just me and you and some alcohol.

 

This year I learned

that I own myself.

I can’t let the words

that question my worth

get into my head

and eat away at my confidence

that I am beautiful

that I am strong

that I am a woman

and I will never change.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

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