I Wear for Me

I wear for me and not for you

My figure – body – moving through

As thick as how I’d like to be,

Or skinny as; my waist for me.

And not for you, my legs which stride

With skin to show as much as hide.

If they’re walked long, undressed, thighs out,

It’s not for you to talk about.

And not for you, I wear for me

My hair long, short, unkept or clean.

I’ll weave my pits, tits, legs and knees –

My locks: my choosing, if you please.

 

I wear for me and not for you

Tight tops, low cuts, fishnets, see-through.

My breasts, chest, and neck on show;

Or not, they’re mine, no need to know

Just how I choose to clothe my frame –

My eyes to judge, not yours to claim.

And not for you, I wear for me

Expressed upset or ecstasy.

I’ll smile because I move my mouth,

Not for the, ‘cheer up’, you shout –

Such self-indulgent verbal means

Which greatly lacks maturity.

 

I wear for me and not for you

A face made up or worn like new

With bumps and flecks on full display –

Each one’s embraced, I’ll never say

A ‘blemish’ for that means I’m flawed

And I’m made my way; no less or more.

And not for you, I wear for me:

Myself, as how I am to be.

Not object; subject, with eyes and views

To betray my stance as art or muse,

For I make, create, design, produce;

But it’s all for me and not for you.

Illustration by Beth Cole