13.02.2021.
I have now come to the realisation that as feminine as I try to be
I am still very lacking
As ladylike as I sit
The more the tomboy shows
It dawned to me that other girls don't brag about the heavy things they can lift
Nor the way they can cook a certain recipe
They don't tell the people around them of the housework they do
Nor the way they baked sweets and desserts
They keep their hands supple and soft
They keep their hair silky straight
They chatter about the new shade of lipstick
They laugh about the disheveled clothes someone wore
Their arms are forever frail
With delicate features all over
They are the porcelain dolls
They also seem to be doing all the housework
They also seem to do all the things that I do
Yet when I look at them
Why do I see such a starking difference?
My disheveled attire and their milky white dresses
The frizzy bushy hair on my head yet theirs in a neat silky ribbon
Their arms like the swan's neck
Yet mine carving out the muscles
We all do the same work as women
Yet why such a difference?
And often times I find myself wondering
What part of feminity am I missing
For the same works done;
They who look like the fair maidens
And me who look like a poorly kempt mother
In a world where looks are an asset
I tell myself
I may not be the fairest maiden
But I too can cook and clean
I too can survive
For the roughest diamonds
Makes the brightest of all
-picone.
