I tell lies.
Secrets are
buried in
the way I say
I am fine after
a man grabs me
on the street
and tells me
I’m too pretty
a woman
to cry.
His lips curl to
bare his teeth,
a predatory smirk,
I’m a piece of meat.
His presence
fills the air,
swarms around
me, I hope for
invisibility.
I feel his eyes
span my hips,
it’s a proud passing,
a flick of the wrist,
when he’s in arms
reach, I see
a fire,
a flame,
don’t touch me.
His arm extends,
palms towards me,
he creates a bend in
my
hair,
no way to hide my
inner mystery,
a craving, a need for
my care.
I should shout or jump
but I don't,
I won't.
Heel clicks
take note of each
step away, but today
will stay.
I keep my head bowed,
everyone seems to
be too loud.
I never understand
why society allows
man to stand, and
woman to fall to
her knees,
how invisibility
is selective, it
allows us to be
seen only
when we are
built to suit
his needs,
we will always just
be women.
Now he says
he understands
what men see
when they look
at me,
that no one will
ever love me.
I’m not cute,
I feel I will
never be
a phenomenal
woman,
It’s not me.
