“I’m not like most girls,” I say,
as if somehow the only way to validate my existence
is to deny my femininity.
Society deems femininity as a weakness
like being female
is being a mistake.
I was catcalled regularly at 12 years old
and by the time I was 14 I had had
too many close encounters with
men who only wanted me for my body
because no matter how I dress or act, I am “asking for it”
and apparently identifying as a female is an open invitation to do
whatever the Hell you want
with my body.
In society’s eyes my body is a cheap roadside motel,
always open for anyone to stay for as long
as they wish.
Neon signs lit up high above me, and somehow you translate
“no vacancy” to “fuck me”.
I’m sorry, but my body is not a cheap motel
nor is it a closed bank with unlocked doors.
My body is sacred
and most importantly,
it belongs to me before it belongs
to anyone else.
And you damn well better know that if I let you in,
you must be really fucking special to me.