Once upon a time,
When I was younger,
Much much younger,
And far more stupid,
I’d beg
“Rain down on me
Your designs
Your desires
And I will cobble myself
Into the doll baby
To fit that shape
Because maybe then
I’ll earn your love,”
Until I felt
So lost from my
Island of self
Let alone self-respect
And acceptance
That I loathed
This caricature of a woman
I’d become.
Maybe it was by becoming a teacher
Of teen girls
That the light finally
Finally
Came on and
I knew I could not do this
Be this
Any more.
Or maybe
Reaching the depths
Where a “lover” would propose one moment
And a mere hour later
Hand me a break up letter
While he sat
Soaking his crab (sign of Cancer) self
In the two-person tub
We’d just shared
That made me realize
If I treated my Self
As Silly Putty
As plastic and mirror to be
Molded by someone else’s wants, needs, and desires,
Then I’d be easily expendable
Trash to be thrown away
When the toy no longer interested
Or when she broke.
I am no toy
No flexible Self
Looking for a man to make me
I am my own
Designer, drafter, molder
Of Self and Life
Destiny and Desire
So
If I allow you near
If I play with you
Dancing in the glow of our
Combined passions
Be certain baby
That I am all and sundry Me
And though I bend
I won’t break
And I’ll toss you aside
Before I ever let you
Think
Of tossing me away.
Mmmmm!
Now come over here
And let’s dance.
Werd!
Time to dance, sister!
That it is, Daniel!!