If my body is a temple, why is it a sin to let people worship it?
The lips that scold me for embracing my sexuality are the same lips that told me to be myself.
I am not ashamed of where this body has been.
I am not afraid to show my skin.
But, his lips tell me that I should be.
She says I should save myself.
Then turn around and tell me my worth is not in between my legs.
I am tired of being patronized for self-expression.
I am a woman. Not a trap for predators.
Yet, his lips are the ones that asked me why I was walking alone at night.
He says I should be more careful because I am a woman.
Why does being a female call for a precautionary guide?
I want to say that I am proud to be a woman.
However, their lips tell me a dozen reasons not to be.
A dozen reasons why if I was less of who I am then I wouldn’t have been a victim.
I am tired of those lips.
For I know, I was marked with a target on my back the day I was brought into this
world for simply being born with a clitoris.
I know everything you have been trying to ingrain in me all my life.
But I refuse to be held back.
I am a woman.
A gender that was given the strength to sew disheartening lips shut.