“Cover Up,Your Shape is Showing.” Why should I?

Author: The Fuan Writer

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Why should I?
Why must I?
Why do I have to hide myself under sheets,
When I go outside to be free to breathe?


“Cover Up, Your Shape Is Showing.”
From your restraining grasps,
I struggle to keep quiet.
I bite my tongue,
Because I'm tired of being disobedient.


“Cover Up, Your Shape Is Showing.”
The enveloping sense of protection,
Made inherently a fear of the outside,
Feeding the paranoia of the eyes watching you,
Watching your every move,
Your every breath with the rise of your chest,
The boys in your class, the men on the streets,
All you should hide from, hide your unprotected self,
Your backside, your legs, your shoulders, your breast.


“Cover Up, Your Shape Is Showing.”
Sexualizing every curve, skin curling,
Flesh burning, to freeze in place,
For movement causes the fabric to stick
And display your wares for shameless gazes.


“Cover Up, Your Shape Is Showing.”
“Your gure is a woman's,
You can't forever hide yourself,
Under those shirts you wear.”
Shame on you, for making me conform,
To your ideals of dressage, your perfect uniform.
I always look pretty to you then, don't I?
Innocent and Feminine. Modest as they come.


“Cover Up, Your Shape Is Showing.”
I mumble to myself,
As I zip up my over sized jacket to cover up,
The shape of me.

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