Do you know me? Really know me? You have opinions about my opinions About my music About my clothes About my body
Some people hate what I wear Some people praise it Some people use it to shame others Some people use it to shame me
But I feel you watching Always And nothing I do goes unseen So while I feel your stares Your disapproval Or your sigh of relief If I lived by them I’d never be able to move
Would you like me to be smaller, weaker, softer, taller? Would you like me to be quiet? Do my shoulders provoke you? Does my chest? Am I my stomach? My hips? The body I was born with Is it not what you wanted? If I wear what is comfortable, I am not a woman If I shed the layers, I’m a slut
Though you’ve never seen my body You still judge it And judge me for it Why?
We make assumptions about people based on their size We decide who they are We decide what they’re worth
If I wear more If I wear less Who decides what that makes me, what that means? Is my value based only on your perception? Or is your opinion of me not my responsibility?
