I wrote this poem when i was 17 years old. I was fed up with the judgement I received from my parents and my local Christian community that I have grown up with. I was starting to really branch out and not want to conform to the kind of culture I had been raised in. Modesty is a concept i grew up viewing as enforceable instead of insubstantial or a true virtue. Writing was something that helped me build on past conceptions.
Cover Judger
When I wear skirts that wrap tight around my waist
Or bold makeup from the top to bottom of my face
Or my Full breasts that just happen to bounce up and down while I’m on my way
Doesn’t mean you get to say whatever you wanna say
Doesn’t mean you have a right to prey
My body isn’t a show for you to watch and praise
Eyes roaming from city streets to grocery stores
Even when I show “less skin” men seem to think less is more
Every part of my body is a threat
Do you know what it’s like to not feel good in your skin and only feel regret?
Regretting the outfit you wore because you feel a man’s eyes on you wanting more, more, more
Why are cat calls normal ?
Like women don’t get raped every day and these rapists walk around these streets thinking they’re immortal
Because young men are patted on the back for the deeds of the immoral
It’s like if you sleep with a thousand women you’re a man
“Man up” they say because if you don’t show a woman who’s in control you’re less then
Boys will be boys, they respond with a smile
Because apparently the male species shouldn’t be expected to control themselves WE have to go the extra mile
Adam said “You are bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh.”
That doesn’t mean every women’s skin was made for man’s caress
Slut. Hoe. Thot.
Apparently you can tell if a woman fit those categories just by looking at her
If she’s showing too much skin, she can never be ladylike and prim
If she’s covered up from head to toe, she’s worthless, no one wants a closed show
Double standards are the essence of sexism
Instead of focusing on my clothes, what about my mind
Try noticing a human being, before thinking “this girl is mine”
A flash of skin never means permission
A touch between touch is a mutual decision
You know when your mom used to say look but don’t touch ? Now, I say don’t even look.