I was seven
When a guy from my grade pushed me
And I fell ******* the ground
But my teacher simply asked
"What did you do to provoke him?"
Instead of confronting him

I was twelve
When I saw a dress I really liked
But all my mom said
"the length is too short,  you can't wear it outside, you'll get ****"
Even though it was barely above my knees

When I started to high school
My parents kept telling me
"Don't befriend guys ok? they're not good"

We act as if humans are driven purely by desire
And no control
We're taught that men are predators
And we must be careful not to "provoke" them

"She was asking for it, wearing such a revealing clothes"
"She shouldn't go there at night, she was definitely asking for it."
Asking for it
Deserved it
As if women walk around the streets
Secretly wanting to be abused

I never asked for it
Nor was it my fault
I didn't choose to be born as a female
Or to be looked upon as a prey
I never wanted to be seen as
A meal for the people
Who are "sexually driven"

I never asked for any of this
Yet somehow they find ways
To shove that into my head
That I did deserve this
Just because I'm a girl

I can't wear certain outfits
Without feeling as if maybe
I do deserve to be treated like this
And to feel so unclean

"It could've been worse"
"You'll get over it"
As if those words can make it better
Or acceptable that it happened

This is our society,
Where we teach our daughters
To cower and give in
And never fight back
"Be the good girl"
Instead of teaching our sons
How to be a better man
And respect women

*** isn't right
And that we all should feel ashamed of ourselves
For women to want it, and say it publicly
We'll be called a **** or *****
But it's acceptable for men
To say such things
And still be respected

Why is it the worst thing you can say
And the most used comeback to guys is
"Don't be such a girl"

Being a girl is something you should feel bad
As if we had a choice of our own gender
Treated like we wanted any of this

Ladies and gentlemen(hopefully you still exist),
This is our society
Is this really the place you want
Your daughter to grow up in?

I fell into the pit
Of sadness and doubt
All because of this thing
Called society

I tore out myself
And shredded the things
That used to define me
All because they told me I can't
Be who I wanted to be

But society doesn't change
They judge you for who you are
And who you aren't
It's a prison
And we cannot escape it

I want you to have access to my dead body,
For that you better become a good doctor,
I have my own logical reason behind it.

If I am surely to die someday in future,
You should perform my postmortem,
And claim what's yours - my heart.

I want you to donate it to someone,
That someone who would need it,
A part of me could still survive.