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Moira Elizabeth Poem
She had never truly been a child,
Not like her brother with his chubby, freckled cheeks and innocent light eyes
To see life like a child is to see the world from behind a colorful veil
To see life like a child is to gasp at the pleasant surprises life holds for you
But how can one see life in such a way when their entire existence is dangerous?
When bike riding in hot weather is accompanied with a soundtrack of wolf-whistles and shouts
When clothes are too short, too tight for prying eyes
A child is someone who has the privilege of innocence
A child is someone that is protected by those older
But no one was there when there was an attempted kidnapping at the mall last week
No one was there when lawmakers imposed themselves on a choice they will never have to make
To be a child is a privilege
A privilege that girls in this world do not receive.
Copyright © Moira Elizabeth | Year Posted 2022
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Moira Elizabeth Poem
Their prejudice is embedded in their words, tucked away
Putting a damper on your pride
A laugh and a smile and a claim that it was “just a joke”
And your friends, the ones who have never loved anyone other than boys,
They accept the apologies, the excuses, as though they were for them in the first place
“That school’s FULL of lesbians”
“You think she has a crush on ME? Ewwww”
“She just looks like a lesbian. That’s why I’m not friends with her anymore”
Day after day after day
Joke after joke after joke
A double standard that they do not notice, do not talk about
Because they are Allies with a capital A
Always ready to curse out a homophobe
Except when their words are hidden in their friends
Except when it’s their basketball teammate or the school gossip
Leaving you to wonder if you went crazy if you’re making it all up
The side glances, the curious looks
One doesn’t belong and it sure isn’t any of them
Except when homophobia is a quirk, an ick, not enough to really call it quits
Except when it’s hidden between the lines.
Copyright © Moira Elizabeth | Year Posted 2022
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Details |
Moira Elizabeth Poem
She had never truly been a child,
Not like her brother with his chubby, freckled cheeks and innocent light eyes
To see life like a child is to see the world from behind a colorful veil
To see life like a child is to gasp at the pleasant surprises life holds for you
But how can one see life in such a way when their entire existence is dangerous?
When bike riding in hot weather is accompanied with a soundtrack of wolf-whistles and shouts
When clothes are too short, too tight for prying eyes
A child is someone who has the privilege of innocence
A child is someone that is protected by those older
But no one was there when there was an attempted kidnapping at the mall last week
No one was there when lawmakers imposed themselves on a choice they will never have to make
To be a child is a privilege
A privilege that girls in this world do not receive.
Copyright © Moira Elizabeth | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Moira Elizabeth Poem
They get braver, it seems, under the cloak of darkness
Like a monster from a bedtime story,
Peeling back its human mask, allowed to roam free on the pitch-black streets
And everyone, they think its you that is the problem.
“That shirt’s too short to go out in”
“You know, girls are getting trafficked at the mall now, you might want to cover up”
“Make noise, if someone grabs you, yell, scream, anything”
And them, the creatures of the night,
They whistle and stare
Eyes dragging over you, leaving you feeling dirty all over
They aren’t human anymore, at night
And even in the bright spots, under lampposts and in front of stores,
No one is safe
And your mother’s there at 8 sharp, just before the sun dips below the horizon
Gone are the days of carefree play
Gone are the nights lite up with fireflies
The harmless, twinkling bugs have been replaced by
snarling,
whistling,
staring-too-long
creatures of the night
Copyright © Moira Elizabeth | Year Posted 2022
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Details |
Moira Elizabeth Poem
You are the star of a show you did not ask to be in
Standing in the spotlight as the audience
Jeers
Laughs
Sighs
Their eyes, they’re glued onto you
Trailing you like prey
Watching your every move
And your words, they’re stuck
Lodged in your windpipe, preventing you from breathing
And you are
Split
Wide
Open
They can see you, all of you
Every mistake, every voice crack, every snap you’d made when things got to be too much
Too much
Everything’s too much now and you know it
But you swear they can see right through you
Logical thinking had never been your strong suit, it was now out the window
Anxiety
They called it
You, you could have sworn that you were being
Split
Wide
Open
Copyright © Moira Elizabeth | Year Posted 2022
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