Hi. I’m a woman,
and no I will not be defined the way you chose to define me,
but are my screams really comprehended?
I will not align with the shape of an hour glass, eat a little less, because my waist is not as blessed,
as you wished it would be, and,
I will not break a sweat for hours.
and not be gentle or shy or docile
but will you then accept me?
I’m not afraid of being excluded and marginalised
I guess that’s what I’m used to, considering all your ties,
of mindless restrictions on my mind, my body, my clothes and even my choices.
I’m a woman,
and somehow my dignity hounds me
because you’re not letting me breathe
shoving it down my throat
that my vagina is an oath, I have to swear to the right man, my husband,
and this is what, from the deepest corners of Mt heart I loathe,
because you persistently persist
your rigid chains on my oh so feeble ankles,
and sow in my mind a dirty seed
that I’m only an object and nothing more
seems to me, like it’s better not to exist.
I’m a woman, and it’s so much baggage today
because I’m the more vulnerable one
and you are the protector
but aren’t you violating me too?
I was told the only limit to me, is in my mind
by learned, wise professors and speakers,
but reality is a void, I can’t simply ignore that kind,
and it keeps throwing me into a pit
where you keep letting me,
the limit to me, is my vagina,
I’m told to be soft and I’m asked to be shy,
as I see today, equality is one big fat lie,
and I look around and see too many ropes, at my disposal, for me to die,
from the measuring tape to the rope and from the rope to the clothes and from the clothes to my body.
You have turned me into a prison
and I can’t breathe,
this temple that was supposed to be me,
is now simply a confinement
and I’m shackled,
because you’d rather have me suppressed
than have an equal.