"sexualising" poems
I have grown tired,
After only a short twenty years,
Of being something for your eyes.
Tired of slurred compliments,
Uttered from behind glazed eyes,
And catching eyes flick up
from where they had been stuck-
Wow! This person has *******
Sick of hearing calls and jeers,
shouted from across the street,
from inside of a car,
from the base of an over-sexualised,
and over-sexualising brain.
And so in an attempt to remove myself from such ********
I have been de-sexualising myself.
I wear long, ill-fitting trousers,
Baggy tops, and thick Doc Martens.
I pull up hair up,
Put my glasses on,
I do not bother with make-up.
I glare and I scowl.
Yet still unwanted attention
Has been able to find me.
Still you grab and grasp at me,
As if I were but a toy at your disposal.
I turned to one,
and looking in his eyes,
I clearly said "No.".
A dog, a child, a human,
Would have understood me;
Yet he did not.
I turned again when his hands didn't stop.
**** off, I said No."
"Slap me, baby, I'm sorry!"
He leered, not sorry in the least.
"I'm not going to hit you.
I'm saying no,
and you're going to respect that."
He left for a moment,
Only to return as handsy as before.
I tell you honestly,
I have no idea
What more I'd need to do
To get some people to see me
Not as a real-life *** toy,
But as a *******
human
being.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 8:56 PM UTC
You can’t hold me against my will
And then tell me
What pain I am allowed to feel
And how I am allowed to deal with it
You do not have the right
To restrain me from what is mine
And then have the nerve to ask
Why I am fighting so hard
You are not allowed
To tell me that I am equal
While paying me less and sexualising my body
Yet you do it anyway
It is not right
To be told that I am sensitive
When all you do is scream in my ear
All the reasons that I am lessor
I live in a society
Where I am too intense to be held
I am too strong, too bright
But I am shunned for my light
Because I’m surrounded by men
Who refuse to believe
That a woman could possibly be
More than they ever could
You don't own me
I belong to myself
So why are you acting
As though I am yours to control
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 11:08 PM UTC
Why is my worth determined by the length of my skirt
Three inches below the knee or else I'm an obvious flirt
“Putting myself out there”, a **** a *****
As if I should expect to be ***** and if not I should thank
All the men for “controlling themselves”
When in reality they control me and the entire society
Because they view me as a piece of meat
Instead of what I am - a human being walking on the street
If you can't control yourself YOU should change
Educate yourself instead of turning the blame
You are the problem
Not me and my skirt
I will choose what I wear and you will go about your day
If you find it difficult then turn and be on your way
It's not my responsibility, how you feel
These jeans are comfortable so what's the big deal
Men can wander shirtless in the heat of the summer
But if a woman wears a crop top they try to get on top of her
Why should I be afraid to leave my house
In fear that a man might see me and become aroused
Avert your eyes, control your brain
Sexualising a random stranger is just insane
And why does it matter anyways how I dress
I'm still a good person whether I'm wearing more or less
I am my brain, I am not my body
I'm just decorating it, I will not be sorry
I'm constantly trying to better myself and our planet
But all you see is my body and you judge me upon it
Young girls are taught that covering themselves is more important than education
This is what's going to **** up the next generation
How about teaching them consent, respect and charity
How to be a doctor, baker or tax attorney
Instead of letting “boys be boys” they should be punished for their sins
And taught from a young age that this behaviour doesn't win
Judge me on my brain, on who I actually am
Or maybe you can't because I'm not a man
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 2:07 PM UTC