“Why did you go there?”
Whenever someone asks me that,
I feel as if they only see me as a piece of meat that should be covered.
I get the urge to just cut parts off my body whenever I walk down the street.
I’m always focused on my body,
Not on which way I’m going.
I keep my eyes on him.
Will he do something?
Is he only going to stare?
Or will he say something?
Will he touch me?
I can tell by their body language what they’re up to.
Sometimes when I stare back,
They stop looking.
Other times, I just have to keep walking.
I don’t always have the energy to engage.

Whenever someone tries to touch me,
I feel as if they’re robbing me of something.
I feel cheap.
Am I up for grabs?

Some of the things they say feel worse than being physically harassed.
Such as whispering in my ear,
“I want to put it inside you.”
It makes me feel exposed.
It’s as if I’m suddenly stark naked.
He exposed me.
It’s not enough to curse him and make a scene.
That feeling doesn’t go away.
He exposed me.

I don’t care what they say.
I go wherever I like.
I hold my bag in one hand,
And place my other hand behind my back.
Keep your straight,
And your head high.
Look straight ahead,
And always remember:
One hand behind your back.
When it’s crowded,
They always come from behind.