Some Girl

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Poem I wrote about the struggle of being a woman and rape culture. DISCLAIMER: I in no way mean to offend any man. I DO NOT believe all men are the same. This is just a piece of my personal
experience.

Submitted: January 29, 2018

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Submitted: January 29, 2018

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I am just “some girl”

I will never be that girl.

I will never be the safe girl.

I will never be the walking down the street without a “man” in my face girl.

Not the “I can stay out late” girl.

Not the “he asked me on a dinner date” girl.

I will never be that girl…. The one who can express herself through her clothing, girl

The one who won’t be called a slut because they scream SHE ASKED FOR IT.

Nope… I will never be that girl.

The girl who can walk out in the sun because she knows no harm, girl.

Is he looking at me ? Will he approach me ?

Can you believe I have to watch what I say and how I walk and how I talk and how I live my everyday life?, girl.

No. I will never be that girl.

Is it my fragrant hair that calls you forward? The shape of my breast hidden under this sweater? Or is it the fact that a bit of innocence still remains in the sparkle of my eyes?

I will never be that girl.

The girl with the answers when her daughter asks why she has to behave a certain way.

To make sure to be aware of her surroundings AT. ALL. TIMES., girl.

Nope never that girl.

Instead I’ll be the it was your fault girl.

You shouldn’t have dressed that way or put on that color lipstick girl.

The girl who puts to bed her pride and takes it even when she screamed I DONT WANT TO just to POSSIBLY survive.

Meanwhile in their minds they believe you want it even though you beg and cry because well…you put on that color of lipstick, girl.

I will be that girl whose mother had to hand her a weapon to carry in her purse just because “you never know”.

Yes. That girl.

The one who will receive countless lessons on how to avoid men on the street even though She still gets a “ay shawty can I talk to you” girl.

Who passes on those lessons and weapons to her daughter when she turns at least eleven, girl.

I am this girl.

This girl who writes out her fears and worries everyday.

This girl who fears not only for herself but for her sister and mother and aunts and cousins,

This girl who avoids strangers because SHE doesn’t know what SHE provokes them to do.

This girl who has to make sure SHE doesn’t show too much of the body SHE was born with.

This girl who can’t be different. DONT DRAW ATTENTION TO YOURSELF!

This girl, who although has a family and a future and so much left to see in the world, can just be “some girl” to somebody else.


© Copyright 2018 Analizabeth. All rights reserved.

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