You said my breasts were too small-
Too saggy
Too flat
You said my eyes were beautiful when you didn’t mean it at all, you said that only to compensate for my breasts and I pretended to not understand you.
I smiled instead.
Because I knew there would come a day when these magical little beasts would reject you and your touch.
When these saggy little bags would jump with pride knowing they were making fun of you with their every wink.
Because you see my breasts,
Had lived all their seasons changing houses
From sports bra to the push-ups they bore to entertain the lots of you!
But never to make a home anywhere;
For with every bra type came breast tissue breaks, and fear of cancer
How could they call a place with death threats, a home?
So when they found you and your hands found them,
It seemed like home for the first time.
Until you began poking and eating and laughing.
Ridiculing them like those Victoria secret ads with your gaze…
And that’s why when you said my breasts were loose one more time;
I smiled as I knew you weren’t the home for them,
Or anyone for that matter.
The thing is my breasts are made of fire only my soul can contain.
They are composed of the memories of generations they put life into.
They are full of the sick bus elbows, teacher rubs, and the uncle touches…
Nah, they weren’t too small or too saggy or too flat!
They were too much.
Too much for you!
–Nikita Azad
About Nikita: A poet, writer, and activist from Jalandhar, Punjab. She started the Happy to Bleed campaign, the one against menstrual taboos and she has been an active part of Pinjra Tod. She is also a Rhodes scholar now, which means she will be pursuing MSt. Women’s Studies at the University of Oxford from this September.
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