I Am Not

I am not the woman you love

 

The woman you love is hairy,

bloated, frizzy, and a b***h.

 

I am not the woman you love.

 

I shave and tweeze my legs, my eyebrows.

I wax my holy grail, eliminating any trace of

Humanity.

           
I create a face not my own on a canvas

I used to think was beautiful. It was mine.

Now it shames me. 

 

I burn and paint my skin for you; my a*****e is bleached,

Exhorted for your entertainment.

 

My nails and cuticles are decorated

For your pleasure.

My hair is lustrous, long, and yours.

 

I am not the woman you love.

 

I cut myself open, examining my

Blemishes

And carve them away with your

Societal expectations.

 

You are a hungry pig.
You roll in mud that reeks

Of manhood.

 

I am not the woman you love.

 

I do not shave my legs until they

Become satin.

I do not wear my sexiness

At home.

I do not do my hair, my face

For my own pleasure.

 

It’s all for the expectation of womanhood.

All you give back is half of the potential for

Humanity.

 

I am not the woman you love. 

When I give life to this world,

I am blamed for birthing beauty.

 

I could either create a woman

To uphold feminine assumptions

Or a man whom will force masculinity

Down the throats of women:

She knows no other thirst but that of her man’s.

 

I am not the woman I loved. 

 

Reviews

[Harmony Lee]

As someone who is biologically male and male-presenting, I have not been cultured to comprehend these such experiences except conceptually and secondhand. That being said, the pressures and expectations you face are expressed with such bittersweet beauty. Perhaps your wonders live beyond either the image you craft or the woman who goes un/loved. My wish is for you to know your own greatness for yourself, and to demand it from the world around you as you so deserve and desire. Thank you for sharing. I wish you well.