A Man’ Space
I used to try on my father’s clothes
His attire never seemed to fit me,
in his eyes anyway
I felt the emptiness in his work shirt,
envying how it compared to my shoes
Leather and sole,
tightening its hold as if it were
pinning my feet to the floor
My father could grow so tall
the roof would creak
as he leant his back against it
I sucked in my stomach
but never protested
How could I say I needed more space
than what he had offered me
He had gotten so big
There was no room left for my vocal cords
So he ripped them out
The pockets of air in his shirt
became a cold comfort
Yet I wondered,
if I could stretch my skin
and blow up like a balloon,
could I fill a man’s space too?
I could take my mother’s hand,
tell her we need to leave
Father takes up too much room now
Growth has left little of me
a pair of eyes and a crooked tooth
But my body still aches
To spread my arms
and fill my father’s clothes
To occupy a space he didn’t
squeeze me into
To stand beside not behind a man
Someday I will no longer cower
before the men who forced their way
inside my skull,
and scrubbed with soapy water
to make me forget
Maybe I will learn
that air
is a grateful reminder of my place
when I feel constricted
That my space extends to the clouds
and even further
Poem written by Mallika Khan at Bristol Women’s Voice’s International Women’s Day poetry workshop with Rosy Wilson. To see more of Mallika’s work click here to go to her website.
