Just A Slut Poem

When I was 17 my date thought it was okay to put his hands all over me. At 18 the same happened to my roommate. Though she hardly knew him at all Except the fact he lived in her hall. For the next 4 years she would be followed home; Cautious when she walked alone; Perplexed because she wore sweats and turtlenecks; She didn’t understand it wasn’t about dress After walking home from her class, A girl from across the hall was being harassed. These punks on bikes thought it was a riot To grab her ass like they could buy it. She found the strength to go to the cops, Not like years before when she had her innocence robbed- In a bathroom in a local market She found a hole in the roof with eyes peaking through. As she ran out with her head in her hands, She heard hollers and the whistles of those watching men. All by herself walking in the street, Was another girlfriend who was just 19, And guys from a car shouted the obscene. There was a reason she pretended she couldn’t hear Just long enough for them to disappear. I didn’t have a shortage of stories like these Whether they come from others or my own memories, But we are fighting so we can talk, Most visibly with our Slut Walks. Because don’t let any dictionary fool you, If you’re female you’re just a slut too. But we will rise to the streets and show off That we are proud and strong, that we are tough.