Mrs. Notmy Name

Author’s notes : This is a poem in response to traditional patriarchy. I hope it resonates with the pain of women everywhere, and it helps men empathize to the human experience of being a woman.

Mrs. NotmyName

I am not your mother, wife, sister

or your daughter. Nor am i a slut, whore

or shrew. I am half of you, yet invisible.

A Misses., amidst Masters.

I am torn because i want you, yet

i do not want to be of you. 

You punish me for my sin of passion, 

yet offer me delicious murmurs

when i promise it only you. Your gentle caress

is bestowed upon me only when I lay supine

only your gaze and your desire matters,

but darling, why not mine?

My greatest power lies in tears and sacrifice,

and I must pledge them – as my duty – to you.

Must I only be for birthing and slaving, 

like our mothers before us, in this life ?

Or can I be a leader, a taker, an explorer 

and  still see that gentle love in your eyes?

I am tempted into cowardice

to win your approval, because i want you.

i cover my head in false humility to please you,

But isn’t it silly, my darling, that a scarf is my integrity?

That my skin is so alien when it spills out of

it’s confines, you feel helpless and afraid?

I am a precious diamond, you explain.

to be cherished by men and to be protected from them;

But I yearn to fall from this pedestal

and to stand beside you, with you. I want to be free

from these shackles of purity; To be shades of gray

and still be seen ; To feel the earth against my skin,

and the sun warming my hair.

Can you allow me this? ; to feel like you do?

To be bare chested and unashamed?

Shade your eyes from my imagined radiance,

For I am not a currency.  I am my own,

like you are yours.

I am not your mother, sister or daughter,

but i am someone.

A Miss, amidst Masters.

End.