Curves

These curves are not a commodity

They’re not served for your pleasure

Nor carved with a measure

 

I am tired of the hyper-sexualization

of “curvy” women

I am not “curvy”

I have curves

 

I have a mother that swaddled me at birth

so when you stare at my body

and your eyes glisten with

unchecked desire

remember that I’m someone's baby

I am someone's pristine daughter

someday your daughter will walk in fear

of people like you

 

There’s a difference between

being neatly packaged for

men’s eyes and claiming

agency over those lies

so yes, i’ll admit I like my body

hell I’ll even say that I love my body

but by which standards are you drooling over this body?

 

certainly i have never given

you permission to lust over

the imagined friction

you see between my thighs

and your mission

i don't remember telling

you it was ok

to make obscene gestures

as i walk by

i honestly just want to

buy some damn

toilet paper

without wanting to cry

 

don't tell me again

how im pretty

for a fat girl

and sit there with your

tongue curled

ready for a kiss

 

dont pretend that

your backhanded

compliments make you

some sort of hero

if anything your

ego

should be commended

for its persistance

 

watch your distance

don’t assume that

I want your sweaty palms

on my ass

ask.

 

and don’t be surprised

when I slap

your hand off my

back

 

I have fought way too long

to be seen as a person

I have wrestled with the fact

that I will never be a version

of anyone’s fantasy

 

so give me amnesty

as i angrily

go on another feminist rant

fists clenched and ready to fight

 

ive been ducking punches

for way too long

ive been in the corner

sweating drips of perspiration

 

have i mentioned

that i’m not sorry

for being angry

i am not sorry

for feeling helples

and im definately

not sorry

for fighting back

 

these curves have watched

men objectify its many

dips and peaks

and these curves

are growing waery

of hiding behind

conservative armour

prescribed by a an institutionalized

spirituality

that leaves nothing for the soul

 

let me go.

I just want to walk

by a crowded street

without being offered

as a prize

I just want to talk

from a pain so deep

that you will see me

past this guise

 

these curves

are not an excuse

to dismiss me as a

human being

these curves

are mine to keep

and mine to free.



 

Guide that inspired this poem: 

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