dust untouched

my skirt is a distraction

my skirt is a distraction,
or at least
that's what they say.

when the sun feels like it has the right amount of heat (maybe too much of it, sometimes)
and i would want to feel every ray I could on my skin that needs daylight
when i want to feel the breeze on the body that I own
i would wear what i want. 

when i feel confident about myself today, when i just feel to show my sense of style,
or literally when i just want to wear whatever the fuck I want,
i would wear what i want.

i did not wear this to yearn for your crackling fingertips
all over my visible calves and thighs, or demand for your tongue
to roll in every circle it could and 'pleasure' me.
i did not wear this as a subliminal message
asking for sex.

i did not put this on just for you to fantasize
about all the hundred ways you can take them off
using your hands and teeth,
with every breath relying on satisfied moans and the letters 
of the word 'fuck.'
i did not put this on just for you to whistle at me

as i walk down a street, neither for the dark of your eyes
to stare at what isn't yours.

don't you ever wonder,
what does my religion have to do with my choice of clothing?
does a shorter sleeve and prominent shoulders mean that my faith is measured by it as well?
does a visible belly button equate to showing off to the world that I am a "sinner?"
do my protruding collarbones above my dress signify that i am a slut?
do my knees below my grey skirt offend you?

why are my clothes considered a temptation?
why should i be blamed for something i don't control?

what ever happened to not judging a book by its cover?

i am not to be defined of my importance
by the inches of fabric that you think lacks from the pair of shorts i quite like.
my dignity is not to be measured
by the detrimental standards that you have fed yourself.

my self-respect will not be quantified
by what you think and perceive i should wear,
but rather accepting the body i was born in,

accepting the shell that i have made for myself,
and learning to love and care for it.

my skirt is not a distraction.
my skirt is not a distraction. (once again just in case you forget)
i am not wearing it for your attention;
i am wearing it for myself.

it's not that hard of a concept.

n: now, why did i put this poem here? it's not necessarily an unsaid thought right?

well, sometimes, it is.

there are times that we think that it's best to keep our mouth shut and keep our means of verbal defense to ourselves when we are given judgment. why? because you would be ridiculed for answering back / what your actual answer is.

and that's not okay.
we should change that.