deepundergroundpoetry.com
Untold Feminism
When I am walking down the street, In front of men,
I smile, even if I do not feel like it; but I don’t smile too much, because perhaps my smile was too flirtatious, and the jury will cry out slut, and temptress.
When I go on dates, I let everyone know where I am,
In case he mistakes the cries of no coming from my mouth as consent, or if I say the wrong thing and I become another statistic in a world full of statistics
The cries of womanhood came early, even when mother nature herself began to pour from in between my legs,
I was a woman.
Even when I was only thirteen, and I was told I was so mature for my age by every man who took a piece of me.
When I was told to pull my bra strap up in school by my male teacher, because I was distracting the boys.
Even when I was still playing with dolls and believing in mermaids, I was told I was a woman now.
This is untold feminism, except that the women reading the words bleeding onto this page will understand, how this feeling feels, and how your skin will begin to crawl, and that feeling will never stop.
When I am near a man I do not know, I will always look for a woman, in case he takes my outfits answer as a yes,
And I am violated all over again.
I am a woman, even when I come home, and take off my clothes, and burrow into the small depths of my soul.
I am a woman, even when my male coworker speaks over me, and tells me that I should smile more.
I am a woman, even when the old man at the grocery store follows me around for eight aisles straight, asking me if I have a boyfriend.
I am a woman, even when I am wearing a dress that could be seen as presumptuous. I am a woman, and yet I do not feel like one; Not when men stare at me down the street,
Or when they asked my thirteen year old self if I knew how mature I was for my age, or how they told me they couldn’t make friends their own age, because they were young at heart.
This is my untold feminism, even when I was a little girl,
They saw me as a woman. Even when I told the world I was not ready, the world saw me as a woman.
Even when I put a pencil to my wrists and tried to erase any ounce of myself that was left. Even when I watched the words drip down my wrists until I felt no more.
I am a woman, and this is my untold femininity.
I smile, even if I do not feel like it; but I don’t smile too much, because perhaps my smile was too flirtatious, and the jury will cry out slut, and temptress.
When I go on dates, I let everyone know where I am,
In case he mistakes the cries of no coming from my mouth as consent, or if I say the wrong thing and I become another statistic in a world full of statistics
The cries of womanhood came early, even when mother nature herself began to pour from in between my legs,
I was a woman.
Even when I was only thirteen, and I was told I was so mature for my age by every man who took a piece of me.
When I was told to pull my bra strap up in school by my male teacher, because I was distracting the boys.
Even when I was still playing with dolls and believing in mermaids, I was told I was a woman now.
This is untold feminism, except that the women reading the words bleeding onto this page will understand, how this feeling feels, and how your skin will begin to crawl, and that feeling will never stop.
When I am near a man I do not know, I will always look for a woman, in case he takes my outfits answer as a yes,
And I am violated all over again.
I am a woman, even when I come home, and take off my clothes, and burrow into the small depths of my soul.
I am a woman, even when my male coworker speaks over me, and tells me that I should smile more.
I am a woman, even when the old man at the grocery store follows me around for eight aisles straight, asking me if I have a boyfriend.
I am a woman, even when I am wearing a dress that could be seen as presumptuous. I am a woman, and yet I do not feel like one; Not when men stare at me down the street,
Or when they asked my thirteen year old self if I knew how mature I was for my age, or how they told me they couldn’t make friends their own age, because they were young at heart.
This is my untold feminism, even when I was a little girl,
They saw me as a woman. Even when I told the world I was not ready, the world saw me as a woman.
Even when I put a pencil to my wrists and tried to erase any ounce of myself that was left. Even when I watched the words drip down my wrists until I felt no more.
I am a woman, and this is my untold femininity.
Published 3rd Jan 2023
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Anonymous
- Edited 16th Mar 2023 7:45pm
5th Jan 2023 2:28pm
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