I feel the eyes of teenagers on me at school, and the eyes of adults on me on the street.
The women disgusted, the men lusted.
The teacher tells me to put on a sweater, because my shirt is distracting, but my boyfriend wants a full view.
In the pool I feel myself getting grabbed, and out, the perverted calls of boys.
If I tell anyone about it, I get ignored.
Family members commenting on my assets-gone-bad.
Too noticable, too big.
'If you go out like that, one day you'll learn. You'll learn a man's true intentions.'
My skirt is lifted, my shirt pulled down, all without my personal consent.
And I can say that I have been molested by at least three people, girls and boys alike.
I'm called a slut for it, by everyone I know.
My clothes, my attitude, me.
A slut.
