When you are down to
creating, and the head is
flushed with memories of
humans untamed, adjusting
the rearview mirror to stare
at your pristine face,
gnawing at the beauty of the
soul that they have deprived
themselves.
Is it safe for me to be me?
Who else should I be cautious of
if it is family, from whom I
must maintain my distance?
Is it a curse to be a woman?
Is it a lot to ask to see me as
I am, know me by my work,
and love me for my soul, not
skin?
References:
https://pixabay.com/photos/sunglasses-woman-pool-girl-lying-2705642/
