top of page
Writer's picturethe drawing room

my post-part-ing

by ReNay


I can grab 

Where I once could only pinch

And when I lean,

I make bends

—who am I if not small—

Now that I’ve gained, will I lose it all?

My title of beautiful 

So easily stripped away


It was conceived in error,

Directed by the misguidance 

Of the masses

Mass producing an image

That bears the scars of malfunction 

So, I’m left marring 

Myself 

To “become my most beautiful 

Self”

Flaunting 

Myself

All

To 

Be 

Free…


But this will only enslave me

To a delusional authenticity

Because the opinions of man or the 

“Indifference for them”

Still reign over me

Insecurity & Apathy –– 

Two sides to the same slavery

What if I lived otherworldly

In a preeminent reality


Then, would I see

That my body is 

Much More than me.


Then, It could be free

To lose its “beauty”

Even damned to be ugly

In the sight of those 

Who truly don’t see.


 

Undignified to a standard
Far too inadequate for me.


––ReNay



343 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comentários


bottom of page