How dare you? hangs from my trembling lips whilst you ask
Why do you get so angry when boys see you in your underwear, but not in a swimming suit?
I want to have the power for once –
The power of choosing when you get to see me almost naked
The power of feeling safe whilst changing my clothes
Not worrying constantly about hidden cameras and sudden swings of a door
When someone enters the enclosed capsule around me
One time, after a heated argument, you asked me: why are you crying
Why is your body trembling so violently
My train of thought already approaches a different station,
Bringing me all the way back to my seven-year-old self
Who was faced with having to speak up for the first time
Every tear left a trail of reminders
Of the words leave her alone leaving my mouth
Of how my father looked at me with cold eyes full of hatred as he told me to shut up
Of my mother being defenseless against the drunken words that pierced her soul
I trembled the same way my body did back then, taking cover from his piercing eyes
You ask why do you get so angry when I suggest you wear something pink, girly
Instead of what I want, blue or black
My mind heading back to all those times I would be reminded that I’m a girl
Those colours are for boys not for girls
You ask why do you get so angry when I ask you to clean the house
My mind heading back to all those times I would be reminded that I’m a girl
Cleaning is what girls do, not boys
You ask why do you get so angry when I tell you to be careful before you go out
My mind heading back to all those times I would be reminded that I’m a girl
All the calls, all the texts, telling me to be home early, to not adventure far
As the world is too wicked and I seemed too naive to fall in its traps
Suddenly, I start to smile
You ask why
I smile at the remembrance of a twist to the phrase – boys will be boys
Well, girls will be girls
And girls will always take their power back.