Enough

You're in first grade and you sat on the side of the bus seat
Where your body is cramped by the hump of the bus tire
The place where no one wants to sit
But you have been sentenced to.
Your kneecaps jab into your chest and the air is sticky and thick
You can't breathe as your whole body contorts
And you know, you know you shouldn't sit on that side because
you always sit on the uncomfortable side
While the boy you sit with gets to stretch his legs out
And you smile and say okay when he asks you to sit there
Because you're a girl and he's a boy
And mama says to let the boys win.
Always. Let. The. Boys. Win.
Even if that means your lungs turn into pin-pulled grenades
And your legs are numb like static
Because you cannot even accidentally touch his knee
And in class you would squeeze your lips closed
And swallow the suffocation of holding your breath
Because Nick across from you told you that you breathed too loud
At lunch you didn't eat because Sam at your table told you that you chewed too annoyingly
Jacob in science class told you never to talk because your stutter was so awful God shouldn't have even given you a tongue
Michael in math class said he would rape you then kill you if you didn't let him use up your foot space under your desk,
Leaving your legs numb and pressed to the metal legs of the desk.
You were in first grade.
And now you're in thirteenth grade
And you are sandwiched between two men on a plane
One who sleeps on your shoulder and yells if you move
So you're contracting your abdomen because you have to pee,
Telling yourself you can make it till the end of the eight hour flight
As the man on the other side of you runs his hand up your thigh
Tugging at your zipper with his nails, teasing with the boundary of your underwear
And the man in front of you slams his chair back into your knees.
And you're in thirteenth grade and too many boys have acted like your body wasn't your own.
Boys that are your age, middle aged men on the street, even the old men in the Steak and Shake.
Dear men, I'm so tired of you acting like
I am a slab of meat you can taste then toss like I am rotted into the street
Like my breasts are there for your pleasure and at your disposal
With a sign clipped to my nipples saying "please grope me"
Like I am inconvenient for you
Like my body is meant to be half the size of an airplane seat
So that you may receive the other half of my space
Like my breathing is too loud for you to handle so that in response I should quit breathing?
That I cannot even eat, I cannot pee, I cannot even speak because I am too much.
I am too large.
I am too small.
I am too this and too that.
I am too girl.
But I am not anything for you dear men.
I will never be embarrassed to exist again.
I will breathe as loud as I want to.
Chew and pee and laugh and talk and scream because I am not too much.
So this is a message to all you men,
I am fucking enough.

-anna sluder

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