“women say they aren’t objects but pull shit like this?”
muscles ripple under the skin of your thigh, like rocks dropped into running rivers / wavelets knock their knees waft cigar smoke draw their eyes to the area below your skirt / dog whistles and cat calls and other wild sounds; whether the animal is you or i, we will never know. /
“you’ll distract the boys.”
female sexuality is sinful evil dangerous adultery is immoral erring degenerate confidence is unholy tainted impure / but men bristle at a shoulder ankle perhaps an ever-promiscuous elbow, / yet they will never be sinful dangerous evil immoral erring degenerate unholy tainted impure. /
“i bet you think you’re part of the 97%, don’t you?”
keys clutched in fingertips pepper spray on to belt loops window breakers on keychains / nightly shadows from behind, we turn and run / asphyxiate as we choke on our womanhood, femininity serves no purpose to outrun men with desires and their yearning to get what they want. /
“come on boys, let’s make it 100%.”
little girls against big men, we learn from a young age / don’t accept drinks from strangers. don’t go anywhere alone. / short skirts give men ideas. take the elevator. avoid parking garages. / check under your car. check your backseat. lock your doors. / and don’t forget: whatever happens,
it's your fault.
“you asked for it. whore.”
Halle Ewing is a 14 year old from Southern California with a boundless love for all things poetry. She finds comfort and companionship in sentences strung together on paper, and when she isn’t frantically trying to find the words to express her feelings, she’s playing piano, teasing her water polo team, or belting Broadway songs in the shower (rather badly). Her work can be found in the Cathartic Youth Literary Magazine.