To the man staring at me on the metro:

Alice Le Bihan • November 17, 2024

Chapter Tags: Literary Arts, Politics

Do I exist if you don’t see me?

I can feel you staring. What do you observe? Say it, I dare you.

A Saint today? A sinner tomorrow? A virgin, a whore, something to play with, something to hurt, something to worship, a thing to adore?

Pick me up, put me down, fuck me up, I don’t care. 

You scare me.

Don’t talk to me about church—I’m no Mary. Unless it’s in the confessional of your fantasies. 

Don’t touch me with your gaze, I didn’t ask for it. Close your eyes. Immediately. Don’t force me to exist today. Let me be a ghost, I beg of you. 

Wait.

No.

Keep looking. 

Sooner than I think, you and all the others will stop. And then I will truly despise you. 

Hunt me with your stare, I beg of you. Just don’t catch my eye. 

That way, we can both pretend I’m safe.