It is the way they stare
at your twelve-year-old legs
as you walk past
with your head down.
The way the man smiles
when he refuses to repeat
his comment about you
to your face.
The way the boy you’ve never met
smacks your ass
and pushes you
into another stranger.
The way they hover
around you when you’re drunk,
their foul breath
lingering on your face.
The way your friend
looks you up and down
and tells you you’re ‘fuckable’
and everyone laughs.
The way the man you’ll always crave
and his friend laugh
about your pussy
whilst you’re fighting back tears.
It is ‘darlin’.
It is ‘sweetheart’.
It is ‘bitch’,
it is ‘slut’.
It is ‘just a joke’.
—-
It is also the way you
are ethereal,
your menstrual cycle makes you
sister to the beauty of the moon.
The way you are stronger than them,
your nails, your tongue, your heels,
the flash of your eyes
are sharper - use them.
The way you can wrap
them round your finger,
twisting them until they cry
blue-for-a-boy tears.
The way you are not alone,
your sisters walk alongside you
with their jewelled heads
held high, so high.
The way you had gorgeous love,
He was Sun and you Moon,
equals wrapped in each other,
one day to shine brighter.
The way the sun basks down
on you, browning your soft skin
as you lie back on the grass and flowers
like Titania.
It is ‘woman’.
It is ‘goddess’.
It is ‘warrior’.
It is ‘queen’.
Milly is an eighteen-year-old feminist from England, a Taurus, and a person who thinks and feels too fiercely. She posts ‘self-help’ poetry and prose on her tumblr blog (username: angular-emptiness) in order to get her thoughts down and to learn to discover, express and validate herself. Love is her strength and weakness.
