I Am Enough

the world put it in my head that

i needed some burly muscle man in my life to claim me, 

control me,

make me his

some face in a suit to rely on and serve

i am not chattel, not fodder, not a fucking object

i am not a plaything

made it seem that i existed to give, and give, and fucking give

be the ‘woman behind the man’

why must i always be behind you?

but no longer.

when did you get the idea that birthing children is the 

only thing i’m good for?

that my genitalia defines my worth?

i don’t have time to wait for you to move so i can be 

in front for once, damn it.

i’m taking this into my own hands

because this is my time, our time, and don’t you dare doubt that

i’m breastfeeding my little boy with a briefcase in my other hand

i’ve got shiny nails and a timex watch

if i can’t get past you, if need be

i’ll shove you aside because I’m done 

waiting.

the world tried, so hard, to tell me

that I wasn’t good enough, that I was born

as not enough

and I nodded, and I smirked

and then promptly stuck the tallest finger I could find on each hand

up in the air