They say it is one out of three

A woman sexually assaulted

Her wings cut, she never will be free

Fear that creeps inside and blood that shed,

His hands are white, but she bleeds internally.

They blame us for skirts, dresses, exposed legs, 

And the choice of laughter and streets we walk. 

We are thought to carry sealed weapons in our bags,

But why?

 for Them “not to rape” was never a lesson to imply? 


They agree we need to change the society,

Women should not be choosing the street based on safety

But then they claim it’s biological, it’s evil hiding in some of them, 

Don’t trigger it, look for your behavior.

 These rules overwhelm. 

Are we aiming for another century of blaming human nature, 

For the sake of it being easier when the problem is in structure.  

Abusers once were boys. And their comments, their catcalls just a joke.

When I grew up I thought that jokes are for fun, unless you are a woman. 

Then it is torture.  

You are laughing, your spine bent in contractions, but we choke.

With grief, pain, sadness, guilt, shame. It never was a joke.

Megija Medne

About Megija Medne