POEM: My Skin Is NOT a Problem, Trash Is!

Nozipho Madlala

Even in your deafness
you awake to the whispers

of my skin

and in your blindness

you see its glow

Your body prompts you

you grab and you touch

without feeling

you’re numb

and I’m hurting

you’re dead

and I’m breaking

Dead skin

dry and longing

for tears to soak me

we both cry

in pleasure, and in pain

but you’re just a man

and I’m just skin

and we both know our place

so I hide away

covered up by your

laws and your culture

your religion and your opinion

but even then you find me
Society often attempts to police women’s clothing under the guise that it’s for our own good. It’s for our own safety. A lot has been spoken against the assumptions and insinuations associated with women’s clothing and rape culture, a lot can still be said. But all I will say is this: Our clothes are not the reason why we are not safe. Our clothes are not the reason why we cannot or should not be respected. Trash is the reason. The only reason! 



Categories: Poetry

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