I know what I am to you – a piece of meat, with two breasts and a vagina. Small, but you can make do with it, since all I am to use is an object of pleasure. My worth comes from what gratifies you. Half of the society expects me to do what the other half bans me from doing.
Did you ever wonder who I am beyond my two breasts and my vagina? Beyond my lips that you crave to kiss, beyond my waist that you don’t let go of, beyond my legs that you stroke? What makes me who I am, what I am? What defines me or makes me average?What do I think of at 3 am, and who do I wish to become?
Only if you knew about me a little more. That I study what I do because inside I’m only a curious little child. The stars make me feel at home. Bikes scare me, only because I once had an accident and there was a little scratch but I thought I would die in that moment. I hate having to choose seats on a plane. I love travelling, and I want to travel to parts of the world that aren’t part of google search. I am very scared on centipedes, I call them Satan’s little spawns. I believe in human rights, and I try my best to fight for them. I once tried to write a book. I appreciate small gifts. I wish I read as much as I once did, but I’m trying my hardest. I still don’t know how to make a winged eyeliner. I hate tea, I’m fine with coffee, but chocolate shakes are my favourites. I want to go skydiving. I have heard a bomb explode and was trapped in a building until my mom could come get me. Candles make me happy. Fairy lights make me happier. I’ve had my trust broken, but perhaps I still trust easily. There are days I do nothing. I feel fat. I miss Africa. A girl with cognitive impairment changed my entire life. I still have Hannah Montana songs on my phone. I wish I could sing. Fireworks are the prettiest but I haven’t bought one for almost 10 years because I feel obliged to not pollute. I want a dog. I think capital punishment is unacceptable. I hate when people don’t drive well. I injured my spine. I want to decorate my cute little apartment one day. My sense of smell is the worst. Sunsets make me feel fuzzy and warm. I don’t really like Nutella. I haven’t had an authentic taco in my entire life. I am an atheist. I have toys from my childhood that I cherish. I would like to believe I’ve changed a lot over the years.
But how would you know? All you do is stare at my cleavage, try to get into my pants. How would you know, if you don’t want to know? When everything you want from me is just my body, the one you think you are entitled to. And so, all you want to know is my bra size and my fantasies in bed. Suddenly, my passionate talking doesn’t matter, because I have a drink in my hand, and you have sex on your mind.
That’s what I am to you – two breasts and a vagina.