shapes.

part two of 'the vengeful feminine'

I do not know what shape I take. There are many different shapes one can be.

There are circles, squares, flowers, a myriad of forms a person can appear as to the people around them.

As for me, I am a blur. The shape changes and shifts and muddles up in a big mess that very few people can decipher, not even myself.

To some, my shape is that of a woman. Curves, bends, twists, all femininity and fertility and beauty. Yet, that is not all I am. As a child, I tried to suppress my womanly shape because I believed I would never be respected otherwise. Instead of bringing this shape into the fold of what I am, I fought it. Tooth and nail. Fire and brimstone. I resisted and resisted and resisted until I became the mess I see now.

Perhaps I will never know what I am. The parts of me I gagged and bound have been released and yet, I do not feel complete. Perhaps I should take on a shape. Rather than waiting for it to form autonomously, I should seize it and contort it into a shape of my choosing. Perhaps, I shall take on a monstrous shape. Claws, fangs, and talons. Feathers, scales, and skin like leather. I shall flash my canines and glare my bloodshot eyes at you and make you see me. Fear me. Be in awe of me.

After all, why should I be docile and pleasant? Why should I be endearing when no one will listen to me? I shall make you listen with my terrifying snarl and towering frame. Ignore my command and I shall swallow you whole. A dragon ensnaring the tower, I will stand between you and the sweet little princess you thought me to be. Enter at your peril.

This shape would serve me well. But, the loneliness that it would bring, would it consume me in turn?

Back to the beginning. I wander around aimlessly. Shapeless. A twist and turn and a blur. I remain vague, undefined, and hopeless.