Mar-i-on-ette

The no on the tip of my tongue

Trembled there for what felt like
seconds, minutes, hours, days.
A broken record, a strategy of
I just need to make do until the
sun rises and I can slink into the day. 
When they propose fight or flight, 
they never quite reference 
the third option of survival. 

As much as you have convinced
yourself that we are the same, 
that we tumbled into a category
explaining the nature of our actions,
our nurture was, is fundamentally unique.
Because when I said no, when I said no 
you countered with a yes that
was insistent and terrifying and
left little room for interpretation.

There is a recurring dream that
haunts my sleep from time to time.
I am being stalked by a lion, it has
the clear intentions of harming me.
I did not realize that the Sandman
could drift into my reality hiding
behind a lavish dinner invitation. 

Adjectives

I write when I am inspired, when everything that rests within my heart and soul feels like it will bubble up to the surface ready to explode, a summertime soda shaken one too many times. I have not written much lately as I was not ready to say the things out loud that have been casting a shadow over my thoughts and emotions. That being said, the benefit of writing, particularly using a medium such as Blogger, is that my audience is anonymous. Yes, I can run Google Analytics if I so choose, and yes, to some degree I am aware that those views from Mexico are most likely from one asshole heartbreaker in particular. Outside of that, though, I might as well be sitting on the roof of Kerckhoff Hall again, letting the still air of a Hotel California night swallow the silence between two planets orbiting a sun doomed to implode.

In the past year, I have been called *in no particular order*:
~ cute ~ feisty ~ sexy ~ attractive ~ ambitious ~ charming ~ unique ~ weird ~

Cool story, bros, but let us think about things a bit differently. Shall we?

I am a woman. 

I am curvy and beautiful and soft and sensual and affectionate. I have a body that performs small miracles every single day. 

I am a woman. 

I am driven and hold myself to high standards and shoot for the moon. I have a mind that allows me to solve complex problems and achieve seemingly lofty goals. 

I am a woman. 

I am honest and strange and more comfortable in my own skin than I have ever been before. Despite everything I have held on to my ability to be vulnerable, to consciously choose to let others in.  

So, go ahead, tell me I am cute with my citrus print dress, backwards cap, and penny board. Feel free to call me feisty when I request that you leave because your antics are no longer amusing. You don't need to remind me that I'm sexy and attractive; I'm fully aware of my curves yo. When I surpass you as I tumble down my career path at lightning speed, I am happy to be labeled "ambitious." And when you are in the process of trying to piece me together, like a 1,000 piece puzzle, I will gladly accept charming, unique, and weird because an opinion without pi is just an onion. 

Nouns and verbs and adjectives aside, if you would like to paint my picture it would behoove you to remember that I am not trapped in the midst of a scream and there is not a hidden message behind my timeless smile.