I had just turned the big thirteen
Mentally wanting to show off my unborn cleavage and newly waxed skin
But physically putting on clothes that didn't even let my skin breathe.
I had just turned he big thirteen and
I somewhere felt that you now decided to end your hibernation.
so you began flashing by my eyes
snippets of your power
The power that was bestowed upon you by your own self proclamaing psyche
So your only arena of control over me were my clothes.
Each day you dragged me to my closet, your present home,
And dressed me to your choice
And I didn't even mumble a grudge
As if I was fearing to be judged, judged more than I already am.
And many a times I was so grateful
As you didn't pick out off white attires
On the days when my body played
Paintball with her all time favourite red colour.
And those were the times I came to know
That you could be gentle too and
All you wanted was to protect me.
Safeguard me from those staring eyes
And snarky comments.
To my surprise the days I would get most of them would be
When I would casually be wearing a jeans and a t-shirt
Showing nothing what all my body
Had hidden beneath.
So to save me another stare you wrapped yourself up in insecurities
And made me dress in snowsuits.
As if wanting me to forget
That even I had some skin.
But guess what! Snowsuits didn't claim to be my ultimate saviour
Because when that day
I headed out of my home
And so fortunately clashed with
Another drunken bearded bastard.
He looked at me
As if I was a beer bottle
And he was parched.
He looked at me wholly,
Thinking that his teeth were enough
To unravel all secrets
That were bottled inside of me.
He didn't gaze at me
He gazed through me
Hypothetically trying to zip down my goddammit suit.
As if launching arrows at my breasts.
But that situation wasn't like the rest
In which pretend to look elsewhere and
Walk away.
Instead I answered all of his arrows
With grenades, swords, bullets and
Every other object
That could pierce him through
And only leave handful of ashes
For me to step on.
Then I watched him take the walk of shame
So my dear puppeteer I just wanted to thank you
Thank you for firstly, you made me learn how to talk in weapons.
And secondly- you made me learn
How not to wear tops that seem too long
Rather push them off my shoulders and
Pull them up my waist.

Signing off
Not so faithfully
Your puppet