Poetic Mondays: You weren’t born for this
Well here we go, another week, another poem and this one’s a special treat for our readers. As you may know we’re not used to uploading long poems on this segment but this one’s a good exception to the rule. Why is this poem so special? Well this poem speaks to everyone, be it a man or a woman no matter your sexual orientation or religion, it points out their insecurities and society’s expectation towards them. So I would like to thank the author for accepting the challenge I had given to her and hope you enjoy what she prepared.
Ignore the staring.
Ignore the fact that
most people will look at you and see a terrorist
before they even know your name,
before they even know the reason you decide to wear what you wear
and believe in what you believe.
You know you aren’t a bad person.
You know they don’t care about your safety.
Ignore the gawking.
Try to just think of her, of your girlfriend
and of the beauty of your Sapphic love.
Try not to think about how the men passing you by
are probably fantasizing of being the one you invite into the threesome
(the one you aren’t having).
After all, you are a woman, a lesbian, and ergo
an object.
You know you aren’t confused.
You know they won’t even let you speak.
Before you ignore the looks,
don’t let anyone see you admire the beauty of a dress
and wonder what it would look like if you wore it.
That isn’t for men.
How dare you even think about it!
Don’t you know men don’t cry
and are physically incapable of wearing skirts?
You know yourself.
You wish you weren’t in danger for being yourself.
Ignore the catcalling, because before you even see them you can hear them.
If you don’t look, you hopefully won’t be bothered.
But if you are bothered, think about just what it is that you’re going to do
because you’re damned if you reject him
and damned if you don’t.
He seems nice, but you know better, and so
when he calls you a whore for not going home with him
you just revel in the irony.
You know you don’t owe him. You know three fourths of the world think otherwise.
Ignore the glares. Ignore the screaming, the hitting,
take it like a man because men don’t get hurt,
and they sure as hell don’t get abused.
Men certainly aren’t victims, and they certainly don’t get blamed for being one!
But they don’t see it when she hits you, and you know better.
You hope you get a good lawyer for the trial.
You have to be a man.
You have to be a woman.
There’s never anything else.
You have to be
everything everybody else wants you to be
but yourself
because otherwise you will be punished for it,
the sin of seeing your own, true color
and daring to show the world the stroke of your hue.
You weren’t born for this,
and so you will pay the price.
by Jomayra Montalvo