Untouched

If stares could rape,

I am being raped

A thousand times, each day.

I am covered from head to toe.

Yet I feel naked than before.

Every day, I cover myself

And lower my gaze,

While the men look

At my body and my face.

I don't need a man in my life.

I have perfected the art

Of doing a man's job.

That of respecting and

Protecting myself,

As the men are busy

Dissecting the female anatomy.

They get curious

About my virginity.

What should I tell them?

No. I am not a virgin.

I have seen and heard and

Experienced too much

To consider myself

A virgin anymore.

Only my hymen remains intact.

Untouched.

Most men will be pleased

To know that.

Voila!

They got their hands

On a virgin.

They will ignore

The marks on

My heart and my soul

Given to me by this society

And are eager to leave

Their own marks

On my body.

Not all men are staring at me.

Some even put their

Hands behind their backs

To let me pass

But they are too few

In this male-dominated society.

Some may think of me

As suppressed

Because I cover myself.

They try to teach me

The ways of the world

But I am not ready to listen.

First, teach your boys

To lower their gaze

And not look at me

As a piece of flesh.

If they learn, it's well and good.

If not, bear with my

Covered self

As I am bearing with you.