Connect with Us


Subscribe to our Weekly Newsletter

“18+ Only” A Poem by Marcie Paez ’18

On a scale of 1 to 10 how tired am I of being objectified by men?

About 1,000.

My mother wasn’t lying when she told me I would be the lust of older men who wanted to f— my brains out.

I couldn’t count with my hands how many wanted to be inside me, hearing their imaginary moans paralyzed me.

It was almost as if I was only created for view pleasure of mankind and only to be held, touched, “loved” at their leisure.

You with the obscene texts and constant battering of “Let’s f—.”

You with the playful flirting, on and off and then back on.

You with the quiet eyes and shy heart, but get you drinking and you start feeling.

You with managerial tendencies and the newborn baby who snapchats me on the daily, reminding me he wants me.

You with the seductive smile and first kiss objective.

And lastly, you with the “ideal” figure of masculinity. Longing for the attention of a young girl.

You “gentlemen” with your “She must be so tight.”

Oh, please, as if your pleasure was the only thing that mattered.

Society may remind me that I’m beautiful, but not willing, which is what makes me so desirable, but just remember what my mother taught me is that I’m your “babe” or “darling.”

Enough with the texts, touches, snaps, and calls.

Leave me alone, if I was your “babe,” you’d have me already.

I have things to worry about. When you become successful, everyone wants a piece of that.

So f— off, jack off, and try to not think of me when you do, because in reality I’d slaughter you before you could even touch me.

Posted by on February 2, 2018. Filed under Around Campus,The Week's End. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry

Leave a Reply