An Approach

My breaths come and go evenly
because I am trying to calm my thundering heart.

My eyes drill deeply into your pores
because I have to commit your face to memory.

My feet tread purposefully
because they are preparing to break into a sprint.

My jutted jaw is held high
because it needs to make you believe I will fight back.

You may regard my smile as a middle finger
because Society has put my hands in mittens.

 

 

 

 

*Subject: Those darn woman-problems/Response to anyone who has ever said “not all men”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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