IX
I’ve been pulled off streets by men and boys,
Commenting on my figure, my face, my hair.
I drown out their whistles as they turn to white noise.
My body is not something I should share.
I’ve never had to open my own doors,
But I’ve always locked them on my way in.
“If I show you mine, will you show me yours?”
I wish I’d kicked him in the shins.
I’ve been told pretty words infused with class,
And I’ve accepted them with guarded grace.
But when I’m flattered by a slap on my ass,
I’ll thank them with a smack in the face.
Men Made Me
Men made me modest,
And conscious of what I wore,
No, I shouldn’t wear lipstick,
I’ll be made out for a whore.
Men made me mindful.
I no longer talk to a lonely old man.
I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like
Fearing for my life again.
Men made me mistrustful.
I no longer give the benefit of doubt,
In fact, I no longer give benefits at all,
I’m sorry if you think I’m acting out.
Men made me miserable,
I didn’t dare walk out the door.
I eventually grew tired
Of picking myself up off the floor.
Men taught me to stay inside,
And lock the door behind me.
But as they’re adding to the walls,
I’m slowly breaking free
Poems by Indie Reijnierse
For more see: http://www.indiereijnierse.wixsite.com/website
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