We Say

We say,

"Why do I have to close my legs?"

when we're eight, or nine

sitting at the picnic bench

in a pair of Bermuda shorts

You say,

"It's unladylike to keep them open,"

and we don't know

what that means

but we do it, because being unladylike

doesn't attract boys.

We say,

"Why can't I wear a skirt?"

when we're ten, or twelve

sitting in the classroom

in ninety-five degree weather

You say,

"It's distracting to the boys in the room,"

and we know

that boys aren't animals

we're just being sexualized

but we do it, because being distracting

doesn't get us educated.

We say,

"Why are girls raped?"

when we're thirteen, or fourteen

sitting on our phones

scrolling through Teen Vogue

You say,

"They dress like sluts,"

and we don't know

why the victim is blamed

but we accept it, because not accepting it

doesn't change rape culture.

We say,

"Why do boys stare at my chest?"

when we're sixteen, or seventeen

sitting on the bleachers

wearing that cute dress

You say,

"Because your body is mature,"

and we know

you really mean my body is an object

but we ignore the stares, because covering up

doesn't get us compliments.

We say,

"Why do I get shamed when I comply?"

when we're any age, any grade

sitting anywhere

doing anything

You say,

"Because that's just how it is,"

and we know

you just mean it's because we are girls

but we just sit, because fighting back

doesn't make us attractive.