You Don’t Own Me.
Everything inside me shouts,
From my bones,
My muscles,
To the blood traveling through my veins.

I am terrified of being trapped,
Pinned down,
Like a butterfly,
Killed and speared with a needle,
Caged in by glass,
So that my beauty may be observed,
And owned,
In ways it couldn’t if I were allowed to live,
And fly free.

You Don’t Own Me.
So I don’t want to be defined by you,
And your thoughts of who I am,
Who I should be,
What I can do for you.

So don’t you dare try to capture me,
Claim me as your baby,
Your girlfriend,
Your wife.
Though I may seem weak,
Innocent, and all together harmless,
There is a tiger inside of me
Just waiting to bite,
Anyone who gets too close.

You Don’t Own Me.
You Don’t Control Me.
You Don’t Know Me.
You Don’t Understand Me.
Even if it means I end up alone.