By : Brenda Echeverry
2 min read
I can date who I want, I enjoy having sex.
You call me a whore but it’s your late night text.
I reject your words that were meant to demean
Because I know that I am not unclean.
I’ve been cheated on and I’ve been unfaithful.
Felt all the emotions that came with betrayal.
Saw with eyes that glowed envious green.
But even still, I am not unclean.
I’ve bled each month since I was thirteen,
Yet you say the sight of my blood is too obscene.
So I pay a fortune for “feminine hygiene.”
Even as I bleed, I am not unclean.
I am in love with this body of mine,
And yes, I will post self-portraits online.
I want to be heard and I want to be seen.
I’ll say it again, I am not unclean!
As the tears trail down, they cleanse my soul
Of dark energy this body can no longer hold.
Released back into the world, I pray for its renewal,
In the hopes that it will once again shine like a jewel
And bring someone joy, serenity and peace
In knowing that they too, are not unclean.
Originally published in-print in Boston Compass Newspaper #146 May 2022
Check out all the art and columns of May's Boston Compass at www.issuu.com/bostoncccompass