Mythos of Freedom

Mapping the psychological borders of female existence under siege

Photo by Wiki Sinaloa on Unsplash

‎Freedom is an
‎ontological counterfeit,
‎a void promised to a creature
‎born into these chains.
‎To be born female
‎is to be cast into bad faith—
‎condemned to be
‎a passive vessel,
‎sheer matter
‎devoid of will.

‎I reckon the years
‎and hope maturity breaks
‎this preordained fate.
‎I assume adulthood
‎is a sovereign territory,
‎an open clearing
‎without boundaries,
‎where consciousness
‎can determine its own name.
‎An idiotic belief.
‎The panopticon simply expands
‎its scope.
‎There is no retirement
‎of the masculine gaze—
‎its regulations
‎are merely codified
‎into logic,
‎into custom.
‎I have to breathe through it,
‎with every molecule
‎of O₂ I consume.