I AM: Constructed Woman

Mon, 01/27/2014 - 18:24 -- Yena

Location

Yena Balekyani                                                                                                        about 618 words

Urbandale, IA
515-822-7148

balekyay@uni.edu

BeuatyUndone1994@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

I Am

 

To the religion, I was born pre-determined a woman of excellence, no mistake allowed

To the society, I was born just a by-product of history gone wrong

To the men, I was born to serve

To the women, I am nothing but competition

 

I am her.

The woman you see every day.

I represent the every woman today lost under the stars.

Yes, I am the by-product of your societal construction.

 

Why won’t you love me?

Are you not the one who teaches me to love every day?

Why won’t you love my body?

Are you not the one who said this was the beautiful body?

 

Why won’t you look at me and call me beautiful?

Are you not the one who told me this was beautiful?

Why won’t you love the clothes I wear?

Are you not the one who provided me with them?

 

You label me a heathen because I won’t disregard my being

You label me a whore and a prostitute, because I pleasure the man you say worships your God

You call me the mistake of the world, and yet you claim not

If it isn’t so, tell me what is a virgin?

 

You say I am free, but where’s the freedom?

Where is the freedom of being a woman?

When I marry, you give someone else ownage of me.

If it isn’t so, tell me what is a Mrs.?

 

You label me a bitch, yet the one who mothered you holds the same genitals

You claim to be my protectors, yet you, in the shadows of the night slay me at my weakest

You claim to be the beholder of my heart, you, trash and tear me apart and you set flames to my soft soul

You say I am your server, yet, you yourself are a monstrous master

You label me a sister, yet, you slash me in the darkest hour

You say we are as one, yet each day you plot to over throw me off my throne

You call me and say you say feel, but you only feel to know and to kill

You call yourself part of my soul, yet you do not only set flames but you burn it until it has turned to coal

To you I am nothing but the next thing to be diminished and be done with

 

I am.

And yes I see you.

And yes I hear you.

Your every written words are slashed across me.

Your voices fill my mind and turn it into insanity.

You murder me every day.

 

Do not worry; after all, you are all the same.

You label yourselves different words, hoping to create an image, but deep inside,

You know, you are all the same.

The things you do, say, and make me see are all the same

 

It is all a masquerade you see.

But do not worry because,

I hear it all, and it’s all something we have created you see.

I hear the criticism loud and clear, you see.

 

But remember this…

 

I am not just a woman.

I am not just her.

I am someone you can never be.

I am someone you can never define.

 

I roar

I battle cry

I fight

I levitate

I am not a word or a line

I am the masquerade; I live play by play

I am a conqueror; and each day I recreate my own

King Kong on the chest I have learned to be the best, and to always fly higher than a kite.

 

I am not just a woman.

I am not just her.

I am someone you can never be.

I am someone you can never define by just a word or a line.

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