I almost let myself barter with my worth last night
Like I was some cheap piece of art
On some flimsy canvas
Hung on the wall by not even a nail– but by one of those
Clear, plastic tacks.
I began to question to what I was worth
And if I was worth your time.
Me! The girl who took six years to realize the
Woman she had become.
I almost traded that for a bribe!
I almost lost myself in the forty minutes it took
To beg you to stay– and you still walked away.
I was confused when I was left alone with just me,
Who is this woman who is crying?
Who is this woman who is trying to persuade herself that
it’s a mistake made on her behalf?
I didn’t know that woman with the
mascara and eyeliner running down her face, with her worth
spilling off of her in every direction and her pride disappearing
like the snowflakes that fell on us on the walk back to the car
and were whisked away back into liquid.
It took me a while when I got home to rescue her–
I had to wipe off every piece of eyeshadow and eyeliner and lipstick
and run a brush through my hair and breath back into my being.
I had to center myself and reclaim myself. I had to remember my worth!
And when I finally made it to my bed and pulled my covers up all around me
I knew that I had not lost her. You see-
My legs move faster than paper,
My face cannot be painted,
My body is not some canvas to be hung on the wall
With a price tag that can be bartered.
I am a woman. A woman!
And I deserve much more consideration.


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