you see right
through me
~Freckelz Marie
I am not the collective bubble dreams of a plastic femme lesbian
stereotype. I am not a Barbie doll prototype, trading myself in for vixen
status. I have feelings, I care, and my contents were not poured into a
mold of how a Femme should look. I’m Me? I’m Here?…
Stuck between femme and stud, stuck between being compared to an
unattainable image that not even the purging and slicing of my own flesh
can give me. Perfection, plastic imitation styled fuckery mistaken for art. I
am only myself in this body, only my own insecurities, thoughts, dreams and
aspirations.
the poetic corner
You look right through me into dead eyes lifeless, creatures roaming the
earth in search of nothing living the Plastic Barbie Lifestyle, fist pumping in
their store bought body, images contorted on a counterfeit scale of true
beauty. Pimped out carbon copies of each other manufactured in the
same Mattel factory.
My body is my own, this strong statement represents all I fought for. I am not
the teen dream Rihanna, Kate Moss, Naomi Campbell gods worshipped
on screens downloaded into our craniums. Not a cheerleader, spunky
model-type diva star.
I am once bulimic superstar who can’t check herself into an ambiguous
box. Race: Other, Hair texture: Other, Style: Other plus some. I am my own
melting pot of what it means to be “black” a color that can’t represent
all I am because it lacks imagination., what it means to be a woman
voiding all assumptions about what that means and just being free, even
what it means to be lesbian merely out of vanity I would say I represent
that unspoken group of women who are neither stud nor femme that like
fucking women. Versatility at its finest.
I’m lost between the lines of what it means to be a girl still believing that in
fairy tale girls who look like me win. To be a woman caught in the tangled
web of unfeasible images of beauty, at the end of the day I’m the same
old me.
I run as fast as I can from the monster trying to swallow me and spit me
out regurgitating me into a pile of synthetic hair, acrylics and pink Barbie
chains. I’m not what you want me to be I am not what you want me to
be, I AM ME!! THIS IS MY BODY!! Even the parts I tried to destroy if only out
of hatred. I don’t fit the artificial bodies molded to be fantasies for Man’s
perverted wet dreams. Blinded by plastic, hard and cold. You see right
through me…
I am not the collective bubble dreams of a plastic femme lesbian
stereotype. I am not a Barbie doll prototype, trading myself in for vixen
status. I have feelings, I care, and my contents were not poured into a
mold of how a Femme should look.
10
I’m Me and I’m Here…and that’s a strong statement.
LEZ ELEGANCE