Blazon (For the Lover of Sonnets and Being Alone)

I am not your coat of arms to be listed, to be weighed and measured out, to represent the one who “bears” me. (I am not an object to be borne.) I am not to be defined; my skin is not yours to describe (dark as the night between the stars or pale as the newly driven snow, it is not yours, it is not yours), my hair is not left up to you (tangles curls or straight as pins, red as brick or green as leaves, it is not yours, it is not yours), my mouth is my own to speak of (pink rose or sandalwood crooked or plump bitten or smooth, it is not yours, it is not yours!), my head, my eyes, my breasts and hips— do you see “yours”? Are these things “yours”?! You may not paint me with your words, because you are not painting me— that is not me, that is not me! (You make of me a coat of arms— your coat of arms. You make of me a symbol meant to represent not me but you. I am not yours. I am not yours.) I am not your coat of arms. (I am my own. I am my own.)