My Body is a Weapon
I learned early
my body is a weapon
Regardless of my intentions
it would be treated as such
With hungry eyes
I'd be blamed for someone else's actions
It could be used to manipulate:
taken away as punishment
revealed as a reward
I am expected to hide myself
As one hides liquor in a locked cabinet
from an alcoholic
As if they are slaves to their impulses,
not responsible for their actions
When I wear a skirt
As if it is my fault for looking like I do,
like I chose this body
When he eyed me the way he eyed my mother
I felt guilty
Like his perverted thoughts were my fault
Guilt kept me from telling anyone
shame sewed my lips closed