Monologue #2

I am a WASP, which makes me the (new?) outsider on the block.
Hegemony, crumbling into pieces as strong, diverse women stand tall,
Yet I am a weak white female and patriarchic promises penetrate my being.
Body broken by perfectionist, obsessive, engrained lies of the corporeal caste.
So thin my hair falls and slithers down the drain,
Or so full of self-loathing my body bloated and bruised by masochistic defiance of reality.
Hiding inside my skeleton on the peripheral peak,
Just outside the lines, the map, the charted track laid out.
No longer waiting to be pulled in,
Just on the outside, living, breathing, praising the Lord God who made me.
For we are all His children between heaven and earth,
And perhaps this liminal temporality is bliss.

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