A poem for She who Hated us… She whom we have always Loved

She always hated me.

Us.

She always hated us


Comparing one to the other

Unfavourably

Distastefully

Despairingly


Wishing we were other than what we were

Other than what we are


That she could divorce herself

Skillfully

Surgically

Permanently

From at least the half … of us

She equated us with the worst.

In her mind we were the least

worthy.

The least beautiful.

The least powerful.


When she looked in the mirror

with laser precision

her gaze would excise our parts.


The parts of us which came together

holding from her vision that priz-ed thigh gap

that slender straight map signalling to the world:


more

desirable

lovely

perfect

more good.


Much time has passed now