I don’t want to be cute!
I am that girl that runs barefoot on the heels of her happily-ever-after
I’m going to be that person that dares to claim the sky with my laughter
I will refuse to be called mistress because I don’t have a master
and fuck it I’ll curse if that gets to the point faster.
I want to be that girl that refuses to wear heals
I want to be known as the poet that reads Braille out loud because she speaks what she feels-and not necessarily what sells
because my expression refuses to be that candy in the flavors he
chooses and picks off the shelf
Fuck it I’d rather be myself.
“No”, he says. “That’s not cute.”
Well I don’t want to be cute if it means reducing myself to bite-sized packets
Conveniently packaged for a man’s consumption
I don’t want to be cute if it means you can belittle me to “baby” and
“shorty” and therefore constantly have me at your mercy
Reserved Reduced Respectful Restricted
But desirable. In the same way a man might desire a car
Obedient to his every instruction
Sits patiently waiting for him to get in and drive
The quieter the better- the ride’s smoother that way
Well, I’m going to be the woman who just doesn’t give a damn
Keep your cute if it means you can call me your girl while I must refer to you as my man
I don’t want to be cute if it means men decide what I wear and how I act
I did not make you my costume designer nor did I make you my director
Because in the movie of my life I’m playing a far bigger role than an mere actor
My existence is my art, my self-worth will play a big part
and my own goals will not be an extra
I am that poet that seeks and seeks until she finds
I for one will not be blind
I want to be accused of having voices in my head because I speak my mind.
Who said I was trying to be cute?
– Maya Wegerif