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Painting a Woman

A poem on becoming a woman

By MegPublished about a year ago 1 min read
2
Painting a Woman
Photo by Svetlana Pochatun on Unsplash

They painted me as a woman,

My skin three shades of porcelain too fair.

I became what I sought to avoid,

My body a canvas nightmare.

They painted me as a prop,

For the hero journey of a man.

My body draped in silk and jewels,

I tore them off and ran.

They painted me as a vessel,

To carry someone’s, seed

My long ginger locks styled for lust,

I cut through them to be freed.

They painted me as an object,

For one purpose in men's eyes.

All these colors wasted on this body,

Just to be heard I need a disguise.

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About the Creator

Meg

I'm here to explore the depth of human experience and to stop procrastinating my passion.

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