Maria, 16

She’s walking home from school

So youthful, so innocent

Just like they like them

Next to her a car slows down

How peculiar, don’t you think?

Then something happens

It’s not uncommon, no

It happens every day

Something so degrading

You just want to bury yourself into a big black hole

That razor-sharp sound of a whistle

And the words

“Hey ma nice body you got there”

Cut the harmonious personal space of Maria

Words that often come from them

Them

They seem to believe Maria is just a piece of meat

An open exhibit to see and comment in any way you want

Do they realize what this does to Maria?

Our youthful and innocent Maria

Those words fracture her soul

Those words rip her apart

Those words make our Maria disappear

She becomes a sexualized frame

Something she didn’t want to be

But they made her that

A story like Marias is not uncommon

No

We could define it as everyday life

I know

I know it’s something difficult to acknowledge

“Not all of us”

“It’ just a compliment”

That’s what we hear when we try to confront them

“I’m sorry to hear that this happened to you”

 

Is that so difficult to say

So difficult after we confront them with our pain?

A pain that eats us alive

A pain that rips us apart

A pain that makes us die a little every day

We consider ourselves lucky

Lucky to be alive

Lucky to be able to breathe

Even if the air is contaminated with their dirty thoughts

I’m lucky not to be dead in a dumpster

Something that hasn’t become that uncommon as well

I’m lucky I don’t have to speak up and be called a liar

Because I could ruin their life

Even though they already ruined mine

I’m lucky I’m not scared to look at myself in the mirror

Scared because they made me think I’m impure

Impure because I did nothing

Impure because I couldn’t scream

Impure because I couldn’t move

It’s barbaric that they made me think I’m lucky

Just because I only have to bear with them catcalling me