i’m not yours.
i never have been
and for the life of me
i can’t figure out why you thought i was.

was it the way i dressed,
the way i acted,
or simply the look in my eyes?

or was it the things I can’t control,
the curves i grew and
the ******* i had no choice but
to have?

i never wanted this.
i never asked for this.
i don’t want your attention
or your wandering hands.

i want to be free to do what i’d like
just to be,
to just
let myself go.

but i can’t.
all because of a stupid little thing
that should be little
but is seen as big

why did i have to be a woman?

instead of living carefree
i have to be careful.

keep the legs always crossed
wear shirts up to your neck
be respectful
(but not too respectful,
lest they believe
you’re asking them for
something)

but even if
you follow all the rules
they don’t care.

your very body is an invitation.

because what is ****** autonomy
in a male dominated world?

spoiler alert: there isn’t any.

I once went to outer space
I thought it might be beautiful
I thought I might be part of it
But beauty is misleading.

He told me I was safe with him
He said my body was like the stars
And when you’re twelve and insecure
That’s all you want to hear.

Cautiously I trusted him
I stepped outside one toe at first,
I poked my nose just past the door
I grinned at the unknown –

At once
I gasped–
My lungs collapsed.
And body froze in fear and pain.
Lips pursed, he shoved me further out.
“More or else” he screamed.

I cried for Mom.
I begged for home,
My tears solid in the vacuumed space.
But I was told that mothers don’t
Want a child *****.

Giving you my heart would be easy
And loving you would be easy;
if it wasn't for him.
him and his hands
him and his lips
slurring disgust while grabbing my hips
him and his voice
him and his eyes
I would tell you the truth but you'd only believe his lies.
It was like being shoved under meters of water
gasping for air, reaching for the sunlight above
but i just kept sinking and sinking and sinking.
swallowing all the words that longed to leave my mouth, it was like choking on water
while just sinking and sinking and sinking.
somedays I'd just let it happen, because what could I do, who would listen?
the feeling of his thrusting on my back, it was numbing
the way his voice would slither into my ears saying, "shhhhh just hold still."
that voice was chilling.
and no one even noticed, no one even cared.
I am trying to give my heart to you and I am trying to give my love to you, but his hands leave scars that I'm not ready for you to see.
So until you reach out your hand for me to hold
I'll just keep sinking and sinking and sinking.

[A prose poem]

I see a palm reaching out for me, from the pitch black.
     I try to sleep and close my eyes, but I still see this palm, trying to cover my face or scratch the skin it hates– I close my eyes and I still see it.
I know where this palm came from.
     I know it from the time the backdrop was not dark, but a horrid party at a lonesome house where I had too many shots. I know this palm will try to take whatever it wants, and it’ll crook its fingers and slide wherever it pleases, without caring to come back to my face when the tears roll down; it does not care to treat them, it does not care to wipe them. It does not care.
     Its been more than a year now, and still I go to sleep and think of hands. Of the word “no”, and how useless it is, just like trying to get some good sleep now. I close my eyes and try to forgive every one of those fingers.