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Gruodytė Audrė

Days like this

Key.

A protector at night.

No thank you.

I am my own protector at night.

They say don’t be a naïve girl. It’s not Europe.

nowhere is safe.

Especially

For a girl “like you”.

 

Whenever they say that I feel as though they are threatening me.

Watch out for a rapist.

Any one of you could be a rapist on a bad day.

 

Older men told me I would grow into my face.

Either objectified or a daughter.

You say nice things about my poem.

I hope you don’t want to sleep with me. 

I have to mimic the way you act to be treated as  equal

Grandma said I could not see a beautiful night even if I tried

Older men told me I would grow into my face

I did 

I can't even walk alone at night

 

My long hair and my breasts are in a way to trick them.

I am not one of them.

It is dangerous for a girl like you out there.

Women have to be treated as butterflies.

 

Is that why you made your hands slide into my crotch

I said no. You don’t care.

You say you are in love.

You even write me a poem.

But you don’t listen.

You are mad at me.

You say – you are complicated.

I question if something is really wrong with me.

I consider sleeping with you to make that anger go away.

Even the strong ones are weak.

 

Poor little Women.

You are afraid of my period more than you are afraid of me.

Yes. I am bossy and I’m scary.

Are you even a girl, they ask me.

I feel like solder in a combat.

I watch too many WW1 documentaries.

In the gas station it’s  the exact time before sunrise,

I wash my legs covered in blood.

Like a ritual.

Be careful not to be seen.

Why?

They will make a witch out of you.

And burn you

In a bonfire or in shame.

 

You are probably afraid.

Or you are disgusted.

The same way I start not to care.

My long blond hair

Why do you care?

Older men tell me I look like a woman they loved in their youth.

They kiss my hand like it’s 19th century Russia.

 I attempt with all I have not to be seen as a girl only

But what’s wrong? You are

A girl

Only

Attempting to be well-tempered.

To be seen as a girl is to be ignored

Utterly

Not to be seen as one

Means to be ignored. Or loved.

Only

 

Can a young woman even be this lonely

 

I act extra to be seen as an equal at this dinner table.

This extra makes me tired.

I used to sing as a second alto

Lucky me, that is why they listen to me.

 

You are arrogant they say. You are rude. You are a tom boy.

So fragile

so feminine.

It’s an insult.

So strong and so tough, so independent, weird.

It’s an insult.

 

The women who think and speak the way you do

Usually also look alternative.

You look…

You lose.

You’re loose either way.

Girl.

Naïve girl.

Stupid naïve pretty girl.

Rude.

Arrogant.

Bossy.

 

You women

You have to be treated like butterflies

But I see

You are afraid of me

It would be easier and so safe for you 

if I still would not be

allowed at the university

Does this butterfly threaten your masculinity?

I am

Am I

 

Wearing ugly glasses

They

Make

Me

Not

Enough

Pretty.

 

I shave my legs.

Not

Enough

Feminist.

 

I am not an angry feminist.

I tried.

I am tired.

Not to sleep with the guys I want.

Because hey,

I want to be perceived as a great philosopher,

Not a great girlfriend of a philosopher.

I am tired.

I tried

To prove something in the name of all the women.

You are so complicated

and crazy.

 

Night.

Are you afraid?

I don’t have a luxury to be stupid.

I can be brave and afraid at the same time.

Where is the key?

Unlock the door.

Key in my fist is a weapon.

 

Every wall is a door.

And these walls are a prison.

 

You

love your own prison.

You never wanted to escape.

This prison serves you.

It suits you.

 

It will never fit me.

Like white.

I always wear black.

The night is black.

It’s not that scary.

I am.

 

Not the key,

But you and I could be a weapon.

Break white walls,

Paint the face black

Escape the prison.

 

But we have no time,

It’s night already.

Alone here I stand

No beauty, grandma

You asked me,

I tried.

 

What is wrong with me?

Is it love?

Love for love's sake,

But it becomes difficult to love

The ones that are still in the prison.

 

But what is the point

of being out of prison

alone?

 




Envoyé: 21:28 Tue, 14 March 2023 par: Gruodytė Audrė