"it's going to be your fault" she said.
"what?" I replied.
"your predestined choice of forced molestation,
that wish you don't comply."
"what you wear is not good,
the amount of all the skin.
one man might get the urge to look and then pull you in.
the slit in your back,
it gives skin no place to hide.
it will make him think,
'mm, she must be mine'.
your skirt is very short,
it will surly pull him in.
and he'll say these truthful statements,
while he does his deeds.
you need to think about your clothes
or you'll be begging on your knees."
as I stand there drowning,
in her morbid a words.
the thought came into my head
and then I got the urge.
I said right back,
"you say I must be asking for it?
if it happens, it's my fault.
his natural state is predator,
and his instinct is assault.
you say, my outfit speaks more than my words.
and you're surley right.
I wore these clothes because its hot,
I will stay comfortable through the night.
but not to them,
they think it gives them the right.
the right to say foul words.
'hey ****', 'that ***', 'i bet you could get *****'
these slurs of great disgust,
you say are mistakened for flirting.
once he sees some skin, you say
he'll no longer have a choice.
once he sees what he wants
he'll surley make his point.
now, don't tell me not to get *****
or to avoid a man.
tell the men to control their urges than to let it control them."
