It's Not by Roisin Branigan
Dear boys,
Unless I verbally ask for it
I'm not "asking for it"
My body is a temple
For my secrets
A palace for my soul
My self expression wrapped in a dress
My body is my own
It is not yours to drunkenly grab in a crowded club
My skin is artwork
That is not yours to touch
My vulnerability is not a toy
Or advantage to stumble upon
I do not care for your derogatory "compliments"
Or your never-ending ignorance
I refuse to let
"Boys be boys"
When their actions
make grown girls
want to hide under the bed
And continually ask themselves
if it's their fault
It's not