"I made a product for men"
My Father's words resonated in my head
What did he mean by "product"?
My seven year old mind
tried to put it together
like a puzzle
I couldn't quite put the pieces together
I left my father's words
scattered on the floor that day
Ten years later
you crawled out of the darkness into my soul
you took my dignity that night and
my mind couldn't help but drift
to the grocery store
ten years back
where my father told the cashier
that he had made a "product" for men
The seven year old me
picked up the words
my father spit out,
not knowing what they would
one day do to his little girl
I put them together
each piece fit perfectly
I knew exactly what my father meant by "product" now
"Product"
that's precisely what I was to you
something to be used
for your satisfaction
I was to be submissive
to the male
"dont disappoint him"
I was held captive
in my own body
a body that was now in your possession
you used me carelessly
left me dry
without life
nothing could be planted in me and flourish anymore
Somehow what you did to me
was acceptable
what you made me do
over and over again
until it was ideal for you
was acceptable
I am a product
that is what I was made to do
I was meant to be used by you
over and over again
this poem is about the night that a man took my dignity and forever used my sexuality against me.