I offered self and soul in my own particular way,
and hoped that you would see and hear its truth,
but in the distant, dulled diminished revelation,
your mind dissected, took apart, reduced.
The heart and mind and being of who I was,
reached out, revealed, sought to be empowered,
and yet no matter how well formed internally,
what was received was no more than allowed.
The reality of what I knew to be, all that I might,
could not traverse the distance strung between,
and your certainty would weave and knot it all;
invisible I did become; just what you believed.
I could not change the thoughts which made it so,
no matter what I did, or said, or claimed,
for you had made me in an image deeply birthed;
it was not me, but your views prevailed.
You hung upon the hook of my abiding truth,
generic form of that, unconsciously you sought,
the only shape of woman you would accept;
so I was doomed to fail, no matter what.
Your eyes could not perceive the shape of me,
your mind could not acknowledge what I held,
for it was not real woman that you wanted,
but something mythical; so tolled our bell.