I am reading

If they touch you
You are finished
If they touch your books
Or your cutlery
Even your bed sheet as a joke
You are dead
So I died
When a boy slipped a love letter in my locker
I thought my inheritance was gone
My life shortened
Dead even while walking
Without my input
Because my mother said so.
Will you do that to your daughters
Not now,
Not this level of war

Bose