My Body

First there is little girl flesh

his hard hand beside a barely there breast. First

pain in my chest. First

day of health class. First no sir I'll pass.

First, face slap a dude grabbin ass. My Body.

Choose between alone with him,

or alone with you because My Body

became a secret everyone knew

and I didn't

choose.

My Body, warm open soul flesh wild out of control yes. No,

cold hard soul no means;

I told you so

like hand holds to growing toes,

like abstinence to abortion clinics

like whether to give life

or to have my own to, let it be full grown

but this body is not my own.

Choice like-

what kind of shirt I wear, what time of day to fear

to be a virgin or a whore

to be scared or to not fucking care anymore. My Body

from my

sexy thick thighs to my

sometimes green eyes

my stomach that isn't always small enough

a maybe too large bust

my skin pale with pores and holes

that creep into my soul.  My Body

is not your toy or battleground.

My Choice

does not require finding common ground,

like what happens between us

what I grow in my uterus,

to be home or in the economy,

like when you fucking touch me. My body.

You teach me it is not my own,

but the marks you leave are mine to bear alone.

So until no, means no

and not "I told you so"s or questions of clothes

or what kind of shirt she chose,

this choice is mine alone,
because this body is here to hold My Soul.