My Poetry: Fifteen by Isabelle Hernandez


Let me tell you about fifteen year old me
This is naked me talking
Talking shit, maybe talking shit
Maybe saying the rawest truth my tongue can say

She, that girl, a little plumper than the rest
A little shyer than the most
A little uncertain but full of hope

She, of the twisted teeth and bad eyes
She was told her breasts were large
So they brought contraptions to entrap
Those chunks of flesh that hung about

They pushed and pulled until confined
And told her now she was decent enough
It bit her skin and caused a rash
That left a scar around her side

She was told she would cause sin
Because men with hands like little girls
They’ll try to touch her magic tits
It’s not their fault, men will be men

They told her verses of the bible
They said she needed to pray for guidance
So she kneed that bed night after night
In quiet rooms there’s no room for lies

She was scared of boys because she was told
They had no control but god’s in control
Except to control the things that they do
Or the bad shit that comes when we dance to bad songs

So they pulled and they pushed
And they twisted and turned
All the thoughts in her head
Almost leaving her for dead

But while they sang those same old songs
And they twisted the words to make them make sense
She began to see through all of the clouds
She saw past the rain, she saw past the rain

But that’s another tale for when I wasn’t fifteen
Until that time we leave fifteen year old me
On a bed filled with fear because of the lies that they told
In an attempt to control so that I wouldn’t leave
A crumbling path and find my own way



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s