He, She, Man, Woman Poem by Lauren Harper

Girl, send me a little something.
Let me see what's under that shirt.
He, she, man, woman wants to see me naked.
Want to see me undressed
Want to see me bare chest.
Send me pictures you demand.
Not in the form of a question but a going to like you own my body.
Like you hold the string knotted at my limbs.
Like you undress me with your eyes.
Let me just tell you, he, she, man, woman,
you're too busy scroolin' through your dm's, sc's,
burning through hoes
and should have been cleared history to notice
that I don't have time to block you,
remove you
ask you kindly to leave me the hell alone.
I like this outfit and would like to keep it on my body please and thank you.
Don't you dare go taking my clothes, makeup, walk, sway, kindness as an invitation.
In what world does any of that equate to a verbalized consent confirmation.
FYI sweet pea, I get up, get dressed up down for myself.
I shaved my legs today because my leg hair was bothering me,
So please next time you think you can stroll in demanding or taking what isn't yours remember my face. Remember my words. Tattoo it on your heart.
He, she, man, woman, you want to see me naked, Here you are.
My first name is Lauren and my middle Camille
My parents have the largest divorce file in east baton rouge parish.
I consider tennis balls yellow not green and red grapes are definitely better than green but that's just me.
I'm afraid of dying before I accomplish my dreams, suffocating and that I'm too much like my parents.
Because even one learned habit from them is too close for comfort to me.
I have depression and anxiety and it ticks me off when someone says they understand because they don't
I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that makes me this way I'm not some girl who's following a fad.
Being positive isn't easy for me but I'm trying to get better.
Puns might be ridiculous but I absolutely love them.
I am a morning person who doesn't need coffee but drinks it anyways.
Because y'all coffee is delicious.
I joined another sport so I wouldn't have to spend another minute at home.
My nightmares aren't about physical pain but emotional trauma that I fear.
Sometimes the nightmares are my memories set on replay.
Last night I had a dream I couldn't go to college without drowning myself in debt.
I put up this persona that I am strong I hold my head high, but the truth is I'm weak.
I'll never let the world know I'm anything other than strong.
Head high, back straight, swollen eyes covered with mascara.
On this stage, I stand wearing less than the day I was born.
But you're too busy thinking with your waistband to listen to anything I say.

P.s he, she, man, woman, I don't this lipstick is your shade anyway.