Is my shirt
Too short
For you?
Is it
Too revealing
For you?
Is it
Too tight
For you?
Is it
Too low cut
For you?
Should I
Change
For you?
Cover
Myself up
For you?
Put on
A "real" shirt
For you?
Put on
Some pants
For you?
Even though
I'm already wearing
A skirt
Should I
Remold myself
For you?
Redo myself
For you?
Wear long dresses
That make me trip
For you?
Should I
Change myself
For
You?
I shouldn't
I won't
I want to cry
I want to let it out
Each tear
A reminder of my failures
Each tear
Filled with my fears
Each tear
A bottle of sadness
Maybe anger
I want to cry
What happens if I fall in love
And no one's there to catch me
What if I give them the world
And they ask for the universe
What do I do if falling in love
Is like free-falling but not knowing where
She upsets me
Her face
The way she laughs
The way she talks
She's like the piece of hair
That is never in the right place
Why does she even wear that
Why does she look like that
Looking at her
Comments
Reading this direct challenge to the preposterous "Well what was she wearing?" argument made me want to pump my fist in the air. Clothes are used to victimize and justify, but they are sham excuses for the intrusion of others' eyes and bodies (but I'm preaching to a choir). The repetition/the title too, I love; you sardonically but firmly identify yourself as the sole person you make decisions for, not those around you.
Thank you
I agree with what Anna said. You should not have to change for others.
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