Guessing Game

by avmber

December 19, 2017

Dear my friends, family, and just about anyone reading this,

I am not a guessing game.

I'm not your puzzle to be solved.

Don't assume my ethnicity, just as you shouldn't assume my sexuality or gender.

I'm not a guessing game.

You don't get to choose what suits me best: based on my skin tone, the way I look, the way I act.

I am born a blank slate.

Though, you choose who I am.

Thanks.

I am conscious of the things I do.

Dear people who question what I am.

Yes, I am a girl.

Yes, I am a person, just like you.

Yes, I believe you should be able to love whomever you want, maybe not just like you.

I'm bound by my religious construct.

I am a sinner.

Bound in red.

Narcissus creeping in my head.

Bound by blazing blinding light; who judges me through the day and night.

I'm not your game.

I’m not a riddle.

Don't try and solve me.

You can’t.

I am complicated and intricate.

I am different.

I don’t look at someone just in hopes to marry them.

Except “best efforts can only go so far in an economy that down plays the reality a single woman

faces.”

If I lose sight of who I am, it’s only a matter of time until I find myself again.

Are you “this,” are you “that."

Sure I play along.

“Guess.”

I'm judging you, just as you’re judging me.

Don't be fooled.

It's my game.

Prove me wrong.

Just ask, don't guess, please

Share what you want, ask what you want to know, and maybe I'll tell you.

Is it not rude to guess someone's income, someone's age?

Taboo.

Why is acceptable to guess their ethnicity, their gender, their sexuality, their political party, their

anything.

Don't say society.

You are society.

I’m not your guessing game.

Something wrong with this poem?

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