The horns would honk
The whistles would blow
And the men would stare.
It started when I was fourteen
Walking down the street
in Sacramento.
I felt the attention.
Part of me liked it,
I’m not gonna lie.
But then part of me also felt scared
I was being sexualized and I didn’t even know what that meant.
But it kept happening.
I’d walk
And they’d drive by.
For years this went on
When I was a kid.
It was weird
But it became normal.
And now as a grown adult,
It stopped.
Which some would say, thank god.
But in my fucked up head
I’ve been conditioned to think
“Am I not beautiful anymore?”
Whick makes me wonder
How any woman survives puberty
Unblemished
When they’re taught as children
That only their looks are worth attention.
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