Reflection Of Stolen Innocence Poem by mary ann

Petite and bony,
Small and fragile,
Small breasts, a slim waist,
Small hands, delicate feet.
Thin arms, but thighs that carry weight.
I'd love my body if being petite hadn't been sexualized,
If the softness of my form hadn't been weaponized.

To some, I look like a child-
A child to be used as a toy,
A plaything for twisted desires.
It's disgusting, really,
How innocence is stripped away,
How comfort is traded for fear.

I would've felt more at ease if hair on my body
Hadn't been seen as an imperfection.
I hate the constant need to change,
To scrape away parts of myself Just to be deemed 'clean'
For someone who sees me as less than human,
Arrogant, cruel, violent, selfish-
I can't live,
Or love
Anything about my body
Without drowning in overthinking.

Without being catcalled,
Without being groped,
Without men or women dictating
What I should wear,
What I should do,
What I should say,
How I should act,
How I should look,
How my body should feel,
Where I should shave,
What I need to expose,
What I need to hide.

Every inch of me
Scrutinized, criticized,
An image shattered by a world that only sees
What it can consume.
But beneath it all,
I long to reclaim the parts of me
That have been stolen,
To love the fragile, the small, the strong-
To embrace the person I am,
Whole, untouched by the world's demand,
Free to exist,
Free to breathe,
Free to be.