There is a bulletin board in one of the rooms in my mind
Where the unsolicited dick pics and cat calls from cars are tacked
The unwanted assaults on my brain
The non consensual sexual remarks made about my body since I hit puberty
When he told me that biting my pencils meant I had an oral fixation
Which must mean my mouth was craving work
But he didn’t mean public speaking as the job if you catch my drift
When questions about my tattoos lead to questions about my breast size,
I stumble looking for the map back to the G-rated questions
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