Rites of Passage

Wed, 05/20/2020 - 03:01 -- Ayesyz

I was 9 when women told me, men are amazing at dine and dash they’ll take their fill
And leave you the bill

Then they come back
Only to take the centerpiece you found solace in

I pruned my emotions
As my body bloomed

Budding breasts don’t compress into trendy form fitting tops
But ribs do, crushing our lungs so we can barely breathe

When I was 14 I walked home after school
An old man gave me his lustful "compliment", I still can't take the main street

When I was 15 it was physical
When I was 16 I was reminded that the heat from unwanted skin contact

Is nothing compared to eyes
You can’t prove eyes have done anything to you

These are the rites of passage
The invisible architecture of becoming a woman

But Girls, I bring you this blooming sense of hope
You don’t have to accept the fiery asphyxiation in the back streets

Do not crush down,
Breathe: Show them your new blueprint

This oppression is an ancient thing
An ugly thing that doesn’t belong in the garden we're plotting

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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