they tell us to conform

as women

and the sad thing

is we listen

to the television

to our peers

that ever so pushingly

or sometimes with a strategically unawareness (on our part)

they rear us near a box 

and say, 'okay you will be this, get in. it will be a massive take-on, probably never acheiving but goddamn it will be a push.'

or the most hurtful, 'but honey, you'll be more beautiful if..."

if what. lost weight. put on make-up. hide ourselves. parade our skin. 

are we not beautiful just the way we are. did i suddenly become this Frankenstein with my scar that is until now an issue.

do you slip in when i am asleep and take a feel of my only vessel

do you wake-up in this cranky but sturdy body, step with these toes, dance with disproportionate hips, poke with these stubby fingers...

how it weighs to the ground and keeps me balanced (somewhat), how it is the only home i have ever known

but it is me

me, us and we

why can't we be more accepting

why can't we accept ourselves for us and tune out the voices that say we need that change

if i bow my head and concentrate, maybe i'll take--try, a huge stroke of a listen

to my voice

only