She realized that being herself, meant that she would be abandoned by everyone in her life.

She was just too unpredictable, too strange and too wild… 

She had to accept that her destiny was to be a lonely one… as they would all, one by one, give up the chase. 


You label exhibit A as obscene 

Because her fleshy curves do not fit into the slim box that you have created 

Identical for every woman to be placed in: Dolls

You write exhibit B off as inferior 

Because her shade of brown is mixed too dark 

And does not match the pale prototype that signifies supposed beauty in a woman: Ivory 

You classify exhibit C as unwieldy 

Because she will not harness her brain 

And stay reined within the academic areas that you deem appropriate only for women:   Cookie-cutter copies

You tag exhibit D as deformed 

Because her androgyny frightens you 

With its inability to give off the lilt and angles of femininity you desire in women: Mannequins 

You brand exhibit E as blasphemous

Because her dream is not to mother carbon copies of you

And her choice of childlessness goes against your beliefs of a woman’s purpose: Assembly-Line 

You flag exhibit F as dangerous 

Because she will not submit to act in the role of the lesser sex 

And her inability to exist on a level below you threatens your role as the leading man: Performers

The corridor of exhibits meanders long, 

Winding far into the dark recesses of history.

Shadows cloak these forgotten warriors armed only with their bodies 

Who sought individually to break each and every unwanted mold created for us – Yet the factory has not been destroyed. 

We wait here… frozen… naked and bereft of life… hoping that there will be one voice loud enough to unite us to burn the concept of patriarchal stereotyping down to its very foundation and lead the mass of unwanted out into the world not as Exhibits but as Women. 


You study her methodically –

Examining every strand of hair, memorizing every curve of her features, searching every pore of her being.

But inexplicably… she remains a willful mystery. 

Her shadow beckons you into its black, limitless pool to traipse behind her – a willing worshipper. 

You take a deep breath and wade into the darkness, allowing yourself to be consumed by her overwhelming maelstrom.