My Body

A poem on how women, despite being objectified and having their agency held hostage, continue to find the strength to battle it out.

A poem on how women, despite being objectified and having their agency held hostage, continue to find the strength to battle it out.

My body
A sum of parts
Lifeless under the gaze
That shreds and weighs.

My body
A work of art
Connoisseurs galore applaud
Seizing the canvas their reward.

My body
A mystery under wraps
Yet the gaze uncovers
For others to discover.

My body
A mere puppet
The gaze decides its worth
And its fate determined by birth.

My body
A soulless entity
For if its revolt can't be tamed
It becomes the one to be shamed.

Yet my body
A reservoir of untapped power
For I won't let it be defined by the gaze
My roar will clear the haze.

Mrinalini Kumar is a post graduate in Political Science from University of Delhi who finds solace in expression.

Featured image credit: Sasha Freemind/Unsplash

This article went live on May fifth, two thousand twenty, at zero minutes past twelve at night.

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