I am not a product of abuse…
no cuts or bruises mar my visage.
I am a survivor of indifference….
proud of the scars upon my psyche and the mended fractures to my resolve.
And so I live with the uneasy truce
between who I see in the mirror and the worn out images
held up in reference
so that I might try, tirelessly, to compete with a stereotype which has never evolved.
My success?
Downplayed.
My dreams?
Limited.
My identity?
Predetermined.
So still I come home to clean, cook, and amuse
as if there had been no woman’s suffrage,
and I smile and nod in deference
as those around me try to force me to devolve.
But I know my strength and my views
and I feel not alone, as I am but one in this strong female lineage.
So ignore me and worse… make your inferences.
I know I’m good getting better as I absolve…
your hateful sin of indifference.
As seen on quoteambition.com