To the World...(A Collection of Poems)

Dislike Who I See

I feel self-conscious.
I feel ashamed.
Not because I have a problem,
but because you nail it in my head.
It's a coffin I'm not yet lying in.

I'm too loud,
you say,
desperately waving for me to be silent,
like I've set off gun shots or sirens.
Men won't like that.
and
It's improper of a true lady.
People will be aggravated -
(but what about me?
Do I love to be told that
my voice is not honey
to top sweet tea?)

My hair is of a man.
I shouldn't wear it like this.
It won't attract the attention
of the hearts I seek
(that you approve).
Roses might be pleased -
but wilted ones only.
Stones and fresh flowers
will stay far away.
Maybe once it would be fine
for me to wear,
but not now that I am this state,
bland not fair.

My state is too heavy,
(though you once said
I was too scrawny).
You laugh about sending me away
to some place where they'll train me
to be what you accept.
(I know you will never accept me,
though,
regardless of the number I weigh.)

When I get angry,
when I get hurt,
you tell me not be so sensitive
and quote some Bible verse
about laughter.
(I am sure Jesus would cheer
to see you bringing me to tears.)

I look at my body
in the mirror
and
though I try to love myself,
I can only get so far
before I collapse
under
the weight of your words.
I wish I were as beautiful
as you want me to be,
Alas, I have ruined myself
and
no one will ever love me.