I can see them watching me
“How gross,” I think
“Look at them
watching,
judging,
leering,
at an underage girl.”
Maybe that’s part of the appeal
“How humiliating for them,” I think
I refuse to listen to that small voice in my head
That voice that tells me to cover up despite the 90 degree heat
Despite the fact that I’m walking my dogs in the comfort of my own neighborhood
Despite the fact they shouldn’t be looking in the first place
Instead I hold their eye contact
Instead I refuse to change my clothes
Instead I push away that voice and do whatever the f*ck I want