She told me she was insecure.
I didn't think much of it for i know so many that exist as her.
So many unable to comprehend stares.
To truly be aware.
I thought to ask,
"How did it pass?"
But,
for some reason I didn't.
Maybe I knew.
I knew by the way she dressed.
For,
she wore almost nothing around only men.
She looked in every eye,
loving each and every stare.
See,
she was still insecure.
She thought she had conquered her fears
but of course,
they were still near.
Still tethered deeply to her existence.
For she used external validation as existence.
As a way to be.
To full exist tethered to simplistic confidence.
To exist as complete.
Men would see her walk and bark.
Men would see her out and stalk.
Men would simply create for her an existence she shall never ignore.
For,
she know belongs to external souls.
External eyes.
External ways in which she shall forever be described.
It would seem she'll never be free.
Never truly be secure.
For,
she is prisoner,
whilst existing unaware.
Unaware of self.
Unaware of why.
As,
she seeks validation,
absent her own,
eyes.
©lamarcus12
L