Entitled
You pick at my stockings,
telling me how good they look.
Your expression welcoming,
while your eyes tell a different tale.
A gaze soaked in entitlement,
like i owed you something.
You reassure that your intent is pure,
when it’s anything but.
You look at me as if i’m prey,
Like you hold power over me.
Though,
You made a mistake.
I am not a possession
Not a trophy
and not some thing you can control.
I am a woman.
Not yours to claim,
and i do not shrink
for men like you.
Comments 0
Loading...