Ugly Duckling Syndrome/A Little Bit Feminist


I used to feel empowered by my femininity
the curve of my waist    under a bodycon
the make-up
the heels
set to crack the world open atop 6 inches of plastic
who I am
for as long as I want

I used to breathe the upward eye
the “you have a beautiful body”
“hang on a minute, I just wanted to say”
the “I can’t promise, you never know”
owned by the rogue       figure
their words
warrior               worrier               those are the two namesakes                 right?
I hear stories
of being roofied by “friends”
who wanted a way in
of “I’ll hurt those who love you”
because I didn’t respond to a text
and I’m clutching my breasts thinking
“thank God they’re small”
thank                                 God
there is no immediate reason to call them forward
and the word “sexy” makes my skin crawl
because even when I don’t think about it
I know you do…                             that it’s “for you”
this image I created
to set back all the laughing and the tears from high school
a “git it roon yeh”
to the boy who called me a dog not knowing my name
an “I exist”
to those who watched me          crawl back onto the pavement
after I fell in front of a moving bus
maybe a skirt would have helped
maybe my number
if you’d wanted it

but I know what it’s like now
and been tossed to the side after 5 minutes of real conversation
because maybe
I have finally                    blended out                     the “weird kid”
well, I remember being embarrassed for the clothes I wore
baggy jeans , “short” dresses
dressing like a                                                                                          tart
the “maybe it’s something you did”
when I told them my best friend hit on me                        and I wasn’t sure what to do
because you were never there  you never saw  but surely I’d asked for it
and you knew
better than my own body

but at least I have my kindness
at least                              I can be a good person
I can be polite
and friendly
dance if the setting’s right
but,                                                                 oh wait
because here come the drinks
the conversations I can’t refuse
because I’m misleading if I do
and either way I lose
dropped to bitch slut whore
whatever you will
I’m sorry I forgot that still
I am only what you want to hear of me
see of me
and I don’t
believe that I am the only “kind” person in this world
when it’s worth the hassle

but I guess that’s not mine either


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