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The Way the Boys Think This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

The way the boys twirl your skirt in between their fingers
Is not an accurate depiction of who you are
There are disorganized pleats all over the surface of your school skirt
Even though your mother just ironed it at the crack of dawn
You dress in camouflage hoping that luck will be on your side of the drawing board today
And blend you in with the gum spattered sidewalk
The funny thing about boys on the street is they have x ray vision that has only cost them free pornos and locked doors at midnight
Calling your name just hoping you feel the same
We’ve gone from long skirts in summertime to bikini tops that don’t fit us quite right
And become blamed for the way that men design our clothes
We’re asking for it just like being caught in a lightning storm while your bus is on the other side of town and you just wanted shelter away from the world
But we can’t hide from ourselves and the way anatomy shines guilt on us like a Scarlet A
Screaming touch me, I’m yours
And if I refuse, I’m no fun and any stranger that wants to feel the inside of my thigh is a dream come true on my way home from work
They tell you not to live in fear
Then evoke it just a second later
Because I am your toy, your shiny new Hasbro board game
So untouched and pure but the second you’ve climaxed I’m the next forgotten piece of plastic that you can’t look at straight on
You make my hips sway when I don’t want to dance
And my eyes bulge when I just want to sleep
But it’s my fault for existing, right?
If I’m unamused I’m too good for you
Like I woke up this morning under cotton sheets and decided I wanted to be touched by a stranger with alcohol on his breath
Or the time my boyfriend smelled trouble and I couldn’t stop crying for two hours because the way your prickled hands felt sent chills to my spine that lasted for way too long
So touch me, feel me, I’ve always dreamed of screaming in alleyways
Begging for another man to taste blood in his mouth as soon as you’re moaning with your hand covering my screams
They tell us not to bite
But use their teeth when they kiss us

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