The Crime

I think about you when I’m trying to sleep

Who did what to you to then do that to me?

I find a glimpse of you on every street

In every white sedan, in every man I see

I watch you floating in my free drink

You’re the loose thread of a “no strings” situation

A midnight altercation

I hear you echo in a “why not”

In a frat house with the lights off

In a basement

A game I wasn’t playing

But still lost

The crime of being alive

The crime of catching your eye

Not being meek and polite

And smiling back at you

The crime of walking alone

Half a block from home

My scarlet letter, your stones

The pointless blood they drew

A split second of judgment

And I’m still being punished

The crime of being a woman

The color’s gone but I still have the bruise

Still peeling parts of me from the sole of your shoe

I can’t make sense of it, were you born with wickedness

Or was it taught to you?

My sin was that you couldn’t own me

Threw a tantrum like you’re owed me

Like I’m worthless

Like I’m fashioned out of your rib

Did I pay for evils of another?

For the harsh words of your mother?

In your verdict, what’d I do to deserve this?

I’m still lost

The crime of being alive

The crime of catching your eye

Not being meek and polite

And smiling back at you

The crime of walking alone

Half a block from home

My scarlet letter, your stones

The pointless blood they drew

A split second of judgment

And I’m still being punished

The crime of being a woman

It sits like a rock in my stomach

The crime that’s never unpunished

The crime of being a woman