I have come to hate,

The curve of my waist,

The hill of my hips,

The raise of my breasts,

And pout of my lips,

 

I hate how it makes me a target,

 

I have come to hate,

The stigma of what I cant do,

The idea I can't lift,

Or open a jar,

but I do,

 

I hate how it makes me feel weak,

 

I have come to hate,

The way that they look,

Like I'm not a person,

Practically just food,

They can call and groan over,

Grope and grab,

Without a clue of who I am,

Or what my future holds,

 

I hate how it makes me feel dirty

 

I have come to hate,

The inability to go out at night,

Every corner is the last,

Every shadow is a fight,

Every glace from a stranger,

Might be the last,

 

I hate how small and unsafe it makes me feel,

 

This is what I think,

And I know for my type that is a dangerous act,

That women should be treated humanly,

Hips or curves exclueded,

Power not taken,

Saftey remaining,

If it's expected for others,

It should be expected for us,