Is it mine. Is it yours. Is it ours.
I sometimes get confused and assume that I must suffer from some major memory loss that causes me to forget this joint agreement we signed on. This joint agreement with terms and conditions my mind and my heart cannot process This joint agreement that states that while I am in full possession of this body; when my heart aches inconsolably because of the imperfections I have been clothed in, it is mine to speak life over it. To stand in front of the mirror and crucify the scars that torment me daily, with love
That when I bleed and shed it is mine to heal, to endure. That when I am cold it is my duty to keep it warm. My duty to ensure that it remains nourished. All the while you are nowhere to be seen. Nowhere to be found
Except. Except of course when your manly lust gets the better of you. Except for when you cannot keep your testicles inside your pants. It is mine except when you wake up and decide that my skirt is suddenly too short, my boobs are suddenly too big, appealing and tempting. That you have a right to touch. Feel. And invade me as and when you please. Then. Then it is yours
And when I dare scream or protest, there is suddenly room to negotiate. To talk about how it was my fault. To talk about how I shouldn’t have.
Shouldn’t have what? Shouldn’t have been a woman? Shouldn’t have walked with my head held up high. Shouldn’t have been bold and confident. Shouldn’t have had the need to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. Shouldn’t have dared to breathe the same oxygen? Shouldn’t have the right to exist?
And when you have messed me up, broken me beyond repair and have gotten caught, emotional guns come blazing.
Suddenly, you too, are hurt. You too have scars that give you sleepless nights. You too have to rebuild your identity. Protect your reputation. Reassemble your entire being. Learn how to see the light in you and open yourself up to love in all its glory. Suddenly you too have to learn how to breathe again.
Then. Then I am reminded that this body of mine, is not just mine, or yours, it is ours
Because you. You have the right to whatever the fuck you want