Looks have never been so piercing before
Whispers have never been so loud before
You try to step back, submit and comply
Until one day you comply no more.

And after some time you'd want to break the silence
Only more and more fingers to point your defiance
Well what do they know more than what they have been told
Silence is golden, your perfect alliance.

They love you and hate you
Will own you, asphyxiate you
Disregard and deny you
And well still not know you.

You've never opened up, despite how many times they knock
You have had your achievements and you’ve had your block
They worry you no more they are a stupid flock
Still, you stay amused, they are your laughing stock.

I have a certain fondness for femininity
and I cannot tell if it is for my
aggressive dislike of being
told what to do
told how to do
that makes me wear short skirts
or if it is honestly the fun of it all.

I do not know if I exist simply
to defy expectations,
to wear floral dresses into a room of
wiry and grease-stained engineers
and wipe mascara off of my cheeks
after my sweat makes it run,
in the same way tears do.

Perhaps I exist to challenge those
people who would think a less loud,
less aggressive woman
in a floral dress
someone to trod upon.

In all honesty?
That does not seem too bad an existence.

i do hope that i am living
my truth and if i look
back in twenty years i do not
feel bitter for this time,
this time that could easily be
me crushing myself to
fit my mold.