She looks at her face in the bathroom mirror counting the flaws on the reflected glass

Eyes too big

Hair too tangled

Nose too low

Lips not full enough

As hard as she tries the cover girls on makeup commercials and the plastic women splayed on front cover tabloids flick through her mind as a constant reminder of what she’s not

Brushes her hair back

Tilts head

Wonders why her hair doesn’t glow like the women on her bottles of shampoo.

Has to remind herself that comfort in her own skin is second to wanting people to see that she is beautiful

She is conscious that the men who undress her from top to bottom are just as likely to call her a sl*t in these clothes as they are to push her away when she slides on a pair of sweatpants for comfort.

I am not another trophy for your shelf

I am not another carpet for you to wipe your feet on and then walk away

I am not a vessel for you to store your power and take it back whenever you feel your pride is shrinking

I am not a broken thing that your strong hands can fix

don’t expect me to grovel at your feet every time you call me pretty

an empty space that you alone can fill.

I am enough

I don’t need you to call me a beautiful women

I don’t need you to call me a strong women

I need you know that despite your words and your jagged looks and lustful eyes

I am beautiful

because I am

I am.