Really Me

My body is mine, but it's not my own, For it's constantly weighed and shown. The curves I have, the skin I wear, Are constantly scrutinized and flared. I'm more than just my looks, I say, But it falls on deaf ears, each passing day. I'm reduced to a mere object of desire, A means to an end, my worth set on fire. My voice is silenced, my thoughts erased, All because of the way that I am graced. I'm boxed in by the labels they use, Leaving me feeling degraded and abused. I wish for a world where I'm more than just bait, Where I can be myself, beyond a sexualized fate. Where my every move isn't judged and weighed, And I can live without facing an ongoing parade. So let me be me, beyond the way that I look, And don't reduce me to a page in a book. I'm more than just my curves and my smile, So let me live my life, free from the endless trial. -𝓥