Body Cage

BODY CAGE

I don’t have to show everything
I am modest, I am humble
There is value on what is not viewed
it is a jewel that can’t be crumbled
That carries the most precious of all things

Oh shit! you saw my cleavage
I am shamed, I am blamed
I am framed in a frame 
where all the girls who show more skin
 are called all these horrible names.

I am whore, I am slut
I am undervalued and easily given up
A slave to corners to hand out luck, payed in gold and a single buck

I am naked when I’m born
yet I’m raised to fear my body
everybody wants to hurt my body
everybody wants to judge my body
She’s too skinny, she’s too fat
she’s never gonna get anybody
look at the way she shows her body
all these men prefer that body
but want a wife who covers her body
and acts as if her embracing her body 
is an aim to please everybody 

It’s so hard to find a place 
for a woman to feel safe
in her body, in her soul, in her mind,
her heart, her space

Her worth,
its not what she wears
it’s the way she loves
the way she cares
the way she lives
the way she shares
her truth, her light, her voice, her fears
the way she carries on with tears

She is not the dress she chose today
but she is the hearts she touches,
the lives she effects
and the differences she makes along the way. 

She is not what she wore
She is a soldier in a war
Fighting for the right to be herself
In a world where men are dangerously insecure

She is not a lady of the night
She is a lady with human rights
With rights to claim her own body
And express herself the way she likes

I don’t have to show everything
but if I did, what would you think?
What would you say? 

Does it matter? 
No it doesn’t! 

But does it hurt? 

It does.

And that is not okay.

(This poem was written as a response to videos, post and comments made about the value of woman and wife potential based on what she chooses to wear...Let’s just say I’m sick of it.) 🙌