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