Nothing left to wear

I decided to wear nice earrings today -

maroon and feathery -

harmless, you'd think.

But when my 40-something colleague

called me "beautiful"

I wanted to rip them right out,

let the blood from my ear lobes

mingle with that "beautiful" maroon.

Fucking moron.

My boss laughed when I told her,

said it was a compliment.

My mistake.

I’ve always tried to find the middle ground.

It’s what cost me the case:

I tried to understand

Why he would touch me when I said no.

My mistake.

Maybe the right-wingers are right.

Maybe I attract the wrong type

- the type who can see through the clothes

that cover me neck to wrist to ankle.

My mistake.

But that’s how they get away with it.

Because we believe it’s our fault.

Now when I look at my jewellery stand

and browse through my wardrobe

I run my fingers through memories

of unwanted solicitation.

I'm a stereotype:

I have nothing left to wear.