Twice, thrice, maybe more
If my language would accommodate,
I only remember once
and under my clothes, my skin seared.
“You hit like a girl, Megan!” they laughed.
It would be rude not to laugh along.
“Be small, so that others can be big!”
and I blushed and brushed the words off me like lint.
Tell me again, now,
I dare you.
I know the words would cling to my static body
and you would hear the gentle buzz.
I am glad that I hit like a girl
It is the lionesses that hunt,
Don’t you know?
I don’t want to slick onto my face a foreign crudeness
I’ll unsheathe my Spartan dagger.
I am proud to be a girl.
I hope that my precious little nails
leave claw shaped scars in the soft cheeks of men
who tell me I shouldn’t.
Megan Andrews is a Sixth Form student from England, studying English Language, English Literature and Religious Studies. She has AS level qualifications in these subjects and is currently working towards A2 qualifications. In aim to begin studying an Undergraduate degree in English Literature with Creative Writing in September 2017, after and before an abundance of travel.