When I was young I promised myself that when I grew up and got hot,
If I ever got cat-called, I would react.
I would scream,
Kick the bumper of their car,
Throw my overpriced drink in their face,
Be angry be ******,
Take no **** from anyone who dared to look at me.

I grew up.
I'm not hot,
I'm okay enough to look at,
Okay enough to earn the attention of two middle aged children in a ****** silver four door car.
I promised myself
I would react.

I froze.
Took another faulty step
Felt my ankle struggle under the weight
The ends of my pants brushing my toes
Blood rising to my face.
Not a blush.
I was not flattered.
An inferno.
My mind in flames.
The heat trapped by my mouth
Glued shut by $20 lipstick from a brand owned by someone who hates what I am.

Didn't I promise myself?
I didn't react.
Hardly moved a muscle.
Too slow to even furrow my manicured eyebrows in rage.

I know now
That the world will always be cruel.
And the world will always think I'm
Hot
Beautiful
****
Cute
Attractive

So what good is having my own pretty face
When everyone else thinks that it's theirs?
Nobody will ever own me
Not even myself.