Sometimes I wonder
What if the story had been written the other way?
Where I, the woman, was spoken to first
The man created from my side to be my helper
The one who broke heaven in a single bite
‘you dumb man, can’t you do anything right?’

Would you then understand what it feels like to be second, below, under, behind?
Would you finally feel the fear that I walk with at night?
Would you be the downfall of all of humanity?

Or would you still get praise from the world?
An applause for sinking you teeth into things that aren’t yours

It is said you are the protector, but to me
you are the predator

I have been a victim
more than once
of your rights and your ways
that let you dance on my dignity
like a stampede of disgusted beasts

Yes, you
You see and you want
You want and you touch
You touch and it is my fault

It is sick.

The color of my skin, the structure of my face, my origin, my organs within
it shouldn’t feel like a prison or a place I can’t escape
It is not an item on the shelf
it is not the blame for anyone’s mistake

my body is a sanctuary
built of pure, divine femininity
built for my brilliance and my beauty
my intelligence and my integrity

my body is my body
your patriarchy can try
but it won’t break



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