Ms. Perceived

(To be written on the bathroom mirror in bright red lipstick, read aloud daily morn and night)

your perception of me, though graven

perchance in diamond, has naught to do

with my existence or reality

whether you hate or love me

from afar or in proximity

if the sight of me draws blood

or shines upon you brilliantly

bears no valid witness to

my lies or flawed authenticity

if my voice grates off your skin

or serenades you with ballads melodiously

neither confirms nor denies my right

to boldly voice my own veracity

if my scent turns your stomach, nauseating

or engenders butterflies, titillatingly

speaks not to my inherent value

worth, promise, and possibility

if my touch raises your hackles

or irons the wrinkles from you soulfully

does not demonize or canonize

my goddess given individuality

 

 

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41 thoughts on “Ms. Perceived

  1. YES! Love it : )
    Yesterday I drove home behind a hand painted big old ‘hippy’ van covered in bright flowers and swirls which said on the back “What you think of me is none of my business”- same same but different ; )

    Liked by 1 person

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