Just Me

I have breasts. I have a vagina. 

That’s how god created me 

I am not special. I am just a woman

I am tender. Like our mothers for years glorified. 

I can wield a knife. Or throw a profanity

I am not special. I am just a woman

I cry when I’m sad. In fury and in joy 

I lose the plot often. Anger’s like my second skin 

I am not special. I am just a woman

Life’s my easel. I paint love and joy

I can hold you when you are down. And hold on to a grudge.

I am not special. I am just a woman

I have tasted disappointments. Spat them like seeds 

But will not abandon my dreams or boast of my wins 

I am not special. I am just a woman

I relish my chastity. And celebrate my orgasms

But a womb is definitely not my definition

I am not special. I am just a woman

I don’t want a pedestal. A trophy. Or a medal 

Neither the taste of blood, insult or hurt

I am not special. I am just a woman

I hate veils. Taboos. And taunts

Make me no bait. Nor a goddess nor saint 

I am not special. I am just a woman

Culture’s not my burden. Religion’s not my shackles 

Family’s not my fence. Fear’s not my noose 

I am not special. I am just a woman

The sky is mine too. The seas and the trees 

Darkness and light. Every street, every nook

I am not special. I am just a woman

I give. I grab. I win. I sacrifice 

Power’s my booze. Booze my right

I am not special. I am just a woman

I am in control. Often lost in mood swings

I can steer the ship. Also ask for help

I am right. I am perfect. I am wrong and guilty

I make mistakes. And correct your flaws

Let me just breathe Take my dues.

And leave my footprints

I am not special. I am just a woman