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?


My dreams?


My identity?


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