A Poem




Why must I sit with my legs closed?

Why, if I don’t, is it considered an open invitation?

Why must my skirt be long and my shirt be high?

Why is my body a sexual object?

Why may I not complain about these incessant cramps?

Why am I not allowed to utter the word period?

Why may I not curse?

Why is it considered a fucking travesty?

Why may I not cry of frustration?

Why is it too emotional?

Why is it always blamed on mood swings?

Why am I controlled by my body?

Why must I be always so balanced?

Why must I be provocatively silent?

Why must I power his sex?

Why may he not know?

Why must I never make him feel uncomfortable?

Why must I give in?

Why is it if I don’t, I am a prude?

Why is it if I do, I am a slut?

Why may I not act like him?

Why must he act like him?

Why can’t we just be we?

Why can’t I just be me?

Why must I be less a woman?



Feature image by Stephanie Deangelis
Instagram: @steph_angelis

Check Steph out! Her illustrations are absolutely beautiful!



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