I am not my hips My jeans hug them My man holds them My girl kisses them They sway to the music that objectifies them. I am not my hair My mother brushes it My lover pulls on it I am vain about it It shrouds me from the world around me I am not my tits They are a symbol of my womanhood Men ogle at them Women covet them The world tells me they are right I will not feed my unborn, my neverborn, with them I am not my eyes Super novae though they may be Planets and dying stars aside Seeing it all and knowing it all They see through all the bullshit there is to see through I am not my hands They create, manufacture, synthesize They harm, undo, destroy They soothe, stroke, placate There is nothing they cannot do, if not well I am not my waist Thick or thin Bloated or devoid Rippled or ripped My middle contains vital organs I am not my lips Full and luscious They spit out lies Let loose harsh truths Kissing kissing kisses, as I see them I am not a label I love whoever I damn well please And I take off my clothes when *I* please Homo, hetero, bi, tri, tranny, atypical, Please! I AM typical, and I deserve an equal shot at all love I am not your princess I am not Daddy’s princess I am not America’s princess I am not my own princess I am my own knight in shining armor I am not my weight Nor my gender, height, orientation Race, religion, creed Not my hair color, politics or history There is no definition to box me.
Posted on: Mon, 17 Nov 2014 21:38:23 +0000
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