My hips and 

my thighs are 

good enough to be watched.

Good enough to be traced. 

Just not good enough to be empowered. 

The eye of the beholder indulges

In the sugary goodness.

You, the man

You watch and

You observe.

You Smack your lips.

You lick your fingers.

You write me off as hips.

I’m 16.

And I have to live for the rest of my life

with the fear that your hunger will

Control me.

You’ve not been invited in,

If my place is in the kitchen

Bake elsewhere. 

You watch 

and you observe. 

You smack your lips.

You lick your fingers.

You write me off as hips

A day will come when 

The earth will shake

from the ground up.

You, the man. 

You will crumble with it.

My hips and my thighs are 

good enough to be watched.

Good enough to be traced.

Just 

not 

good enough 

to be empowered. 

But, what you don’t know is 

Those thighs can run faster than yours.

Those hips are stronger than yours.

These hips will carry a child.

A child that I’ll do with what I please. 

My choice.

Kid in a candy store.

Bake elsewhere.

Brush your teeth and spit it all out.

A day will come when I can breathe.

I’ll look down at my daughter

And She’ll be free.

Her choice.

A day will come when the earth will shake from the ground up.

You, the man. 

You will crumble with it.

I won’t be controlled.

Not by you.

And your sugar tooth. 

My choice?

My choice.

My choice!