Objectified
She took a cold blade and carved into her body.
Adding just another mark to the bounty of those wild stretch marks that adorned her.
She stared at the mirror as she clenched her teeth, burning in the inferno of pain,
And admired herself as she bled.
“Beautiful !”
She whispered, exhaling a sigh in the sultry air of her quiet room.
The void eyes of her reflection stared at her broken soul.
Another slash of the blade and yet another oozing wound.
Like a sculptor intricately chiselling a piece of marble with his fine tools,
Carving a beautiful sculpture,
She was her own sculptor now.
She was the master of her own body,
And her body, her masterpiece.
No one could stop her from her frenzy to create perfection.
All the eyes that looked down upon her,
All the lips that mocked at her,
Are now just demons lost in oblivion.
The clicking of their tongues, the ridicule in their voices,
Had all drowned in the glory of her pride.
She was colouring herself in the hues of blood red.
No, she wasn’t hiding in colours grey.
Painting her body in vermillion glaze, she was free.
Free from all the inferiority complex, the shame,
the desire to cover her curves in the folds of heavy fabric.
No more a human objectified,
No more God’s wicked sense of humour.
She was her own Masterpiece.
Adding just another mark to the bounty of those wild stretch marks that adorned her.
She stared at the mirror as she clenched her teeth, burning in the inferno of pain,
And admired herself as she bled.
“Beautiful !”
She whispered, exhaling a sigh in the sultry air of her quiet room.
The void eyes of her reflection stared at her broken soul.
Another slash of the blade and yet another oozing wound.
Like a sculptor intricately chiselling a piece of marble with his fine tools,
Carving a beautiful sculpture,
She was her own sculptor now.
She was the master of her own body,
And her body, her masterpiece.
No one could stop her from her frenzy to create perfection.
All the eyes that looked down upon her,
All the lips that mocked at her,
Are now just demons lost in oblivion.
The clicking of their tongues, the ridicule in their voices,
Had all drowned in the glory of her pride.
She was colouring herself in the hues of blood red.
No, she wasn’t hiding in colours grey.
Painting her body in vermillion glaze, she was free.
Free from all the inferiority complex, the shame,
the desire to cover her curves in the folds of heavy fabric.
No more a human objectified,
No more God’s wicked sense of humour.
She was her own Masterpiece.
Such a splendid thought-provoker !!
ReplyDeleteThank you dear reader
DeleteReally dumbfounded how u have translated every day mockery into a thought provoking poem
ReplyDeleteReally dumbfounded how u have translated every day mockery into a thought provoking poem
ReplyDeleteI am glad that you found it so thought provoking
DeleteI can see my story in this little poem of yours 😌
ReplyDeletethanks for those great blog and giving some details about the online counselling depression then i also want to share some useful ideas about the Workplace Counselling
ReplyDelete"Thank you for sharing this informative post on ADHD symptoms. It's crucial to raise awareness about this condition, as early recognition and intervention can make a significant difference in the lives of those affected. Memory Improvement Techniques
ReplyDeleteThe detailed description of symptoms here will undoubtedly help many individuals and their families better understand what they might be experiencing. Education and understanding are essential in supporting those with ADHD."