“Who says chivalry is dead?” He says
As he smiles
And looks down my shirt
At my chest
I guess it shouldn’t be anything new
I’m used to strange men staring at me
Ever since before I even hit puberty
Don’t get me wrong.
I know that not all men are this way
But I pray for the day
When we can forget the unwritten decree
To be the people pleasers we are expected to be
That I can forsake my politeness
And speak up when men peer at me
In elevators, on buses, when I cross the street
“Excuse me, sir. I am not a goddamn piece of meat.”
No I will not smile
No I will not say hello back
I don’t owe you a greeting
I recall the words from one of my own male relatives
And the thought of it just leaves me seething
That “little girls should be seen not heard”
Well, allow me to throw that notion out the window
And give it the bird
Because I’m sick of being silent
I’m sick of only being able to protest with a picket sign
I’m sick of being pressured to just fall in line.
I am not here to keep the peace
When my own space has been invaded
Call me just another angry woman if you will.
But it’s your perception that is ridiculously outdated.
