by D

Soft eyes, soft hands,

Soft gaze, soft plans,

I am somehow a portrait

Created by you, for you, with you,

At what point did I enter this parody of femininity?

When did I decide that you mattered more than my integrity?

I want to grab your shoulders and shake and shake,

But that would be unladylike,

I want to take my notebook full of plans, ambitions, threats and depression and throw it at your ignorant, indignant skull,

But that would be unladylike.


I am somehow a portrait,

Created by you, for you, with you,

But much as my oil and pastel eyes,

Resent your every gaze, wink and leering jeer,

Deep within me, I know my lie;

There’s one of me and ten thousand of you,

I’m indiscriminate in my choosing,

Subconsciously self-consciously my only aim is to make you

Make me.

And so I am a portrait,

Created for you, with you,

By me.