By Caitlan Walton, with commentary from Katie Simpson
I am not a victim.
Not a damsel in distress.
I do not wait and watch and faint
And stand there in a dress.
I am not some Thing man-made.
Custom ready, complete with wound-like gash,
In wait of some man’s fleshy blade,
At which to stab and slash.
I am not in need to fill with another,
That space from knee to knee
Why this divide of what is whole or hole?
That limits what I am to me.
And I am not a supporting role.
In this life I choose to lead.
This other being formed from my flesh,
Takes nothing away from me.
I am her,
I am she, I am miss,
But before all others I am.