Rites of Passage

I was 9 when women told me, men are amazing at dine and dash they’ll take their fill And leave you the bill Then they come back Only to take the centerpiece you found solace in I pruned my emotions As my body bloomed Budding breasts don’t compress into trendy form fitting tops But ribs do, crushing our lungs so we can barely breathe When I was 14 I walked home after school An old man gave me his lustful "compliment", I still can't take the main street When I was 15 it was physical When I was 16 I was reminded that the heat from unwanted skin contact Is nothing compared to eyes You can’t prove eyes have done anything to you These are the rites of passage The invisible architecture of becoming a woman But Girls, I bring you this blooming sense of hope You don’t have to accept the fiery asphyxiation in the back streets Do not crush down, Breathe: Show them your new blueprint This oppression is an ancient thing An ugly thing that doesn’t belong in the garden we're plotting