Stamped and
Inked, I arrived bawling and
Yawning in the cradle.
Newborn clothes perfectly colored,
Fitted and matched, I smiled
To their joy.
“How pleasant..” they tweeted.
I sucked milk and burped gently.
Just the right way or so they said.
“My perfect daughter,” said my dad.
Coy and bashful I became a young girl,
Following, obeying,
Not a breath or a whisper without permission.
‘Girls should walk with grace..feet together..’ said my teachers
I harnessed my feet that craved to dance.
‘Girls should not speak loudly..a whisper is enough,’ suggested most so I gagged my throat into silence.
‘Girls should not laugh too loud,’ said the neighborly aunt.
That was the day I started to cry if I wanted to laugh.
Was I born a prisoner?
One day, I decided to love myself,
A little..just a little.
I laughed till I shook,
I smiled brightly till the sun shied away,
A skip, a hop and a dance.
They looked aghast..how can a girl
Be so wanton..so shameless!
I walked away happy,
I was in love..
with myself
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