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  • Writer's pictureThe Feminist Times

Chasing my Choice

Call it my choice,

I 'm emboldening my spine,

delving into recklessness

being both cocoon & butterfly.

An assortment,

chasing self-love ,

driving left & right,

spilling peonies over

other's opinion, being

the redness of their wine.

Lying in the wild grass,

my curves melting into light.

Hands running over the

thunder of my thighs,

caressing the flaws,

every 'not so beautiful'

'not so worthy'

'not so lovable'

'not so perfect'

rubbing into the mud,

letting them fall like

shadows behind.

I am owning the mocha

of my skin,

a desideratum made of satin.

Beyond the odds,

the felisia of my thoughts

twirling, moving

with compassion in

wilderness of my heart.

I am smoking what people call

fragility ,

sniffing the tranquillity ,

getting higher and higher

dripping back like mist,

clogging the sky of hatred

unleashing my strength,

celebrating the goddess within.

Akanksha Kinwaar

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