This was written in anticipation of a poetry slam performance. That means, of course, that something definitely gets lost in the translation of spoken word to text, but I hope you'll like it anyway - I certainly do. Then again I can hear myself reading it aloud in my mind...hopefully you can, too.
*

What If?

You look at me
Your eyes chewing on my details
As you prepare to spit out an undigested, undesired opinion
I can see you count them off…
‘1, 2, 3…
Same as me’
Minivan
Extra curves
Kid hanging off each arm
Just another
Suburban mother
Nothing to look at
Nothing to bother
Yourself
With.
But…
What if you knew?
What if you could see down to my truth
My insides
My deepest, darkest depths
The things I have done
The bodies I have ravished
The hearts I have left panting
And writhing
In abject agony at my departure?
What if you could open my doors
Expose my skeletons
And come to know them by name?
Then you would see that I am nothing
Like I seem
I am not
Some straight man’s absolution
I am not
Some straight man’s *****
I am not
Some straight man’s plaything
Secret fling
Wedding ring
Because…
I am not
Straight.
See, where other women have
A ‘he’ in their lives
I, instead, have a ‘she’
A ‘she’ that is my love
A ‘she’ that is my life
My wife
My everything
So what if
You knew this truth?
Would I be worth the bother then?
Or would I simply BE a bother
A stark reminder
In your daily life of privilege?
Your rights trump my rights
Then
Your dreams are the only ones that count
Then
Your love is God-breathed and mine is a sin
Then
But wait…
Only moments ago I was part of your crowd
Another mother
Not something other
Now everything is changed
In your head
Yet I’m still that suburban mother
Still just a regular gal
Nothing is different about me
From then ‘til now
Except you
So what if
You made a change
What if
You decided my ‘she’
Instead of a ‘he’
Was irrelevant
To my ‘me’
What would change then
If?

© J.C. Woody  2013