Jezebel

She wore the red dress today,

The one that hugs her thick curves

And dips low on her breasts.

She spent time on her makeup,

The eyeliner lining, covering, hiding,

Polishing the surface of her

Already too-beautiful face

And they all stare, mouths wide,

Hands rubbing together in anticipation

And she smirks at them,

Feeding on their reaction

But I know why she wears this dress.

She feels ugly today, forgotten, alone

She wants them to whistle and ogle

At her and think she’s easy

Something worth watching walk by

She swings her hips a little extra

And hopes that no one notices

The dead emptiness behind her eyes

Or the way her hands cross over her stomach,

Hiding the shame of her stretch marks

And the judgment of having a child before marriage

She wore the red dress today,

Because she calls herself Jezebel in the mirror,

Slut, whore, sinner,

And they agree, they don’t argue,

They don’t tell her she’s too pure, to sweet

They want her to be ruined

Because if she’s wearing the red dress,

She’s worse than them.