Reinterpreting Sylvia Plath

I practiced femininity like it was my job.
Pour my body into fabrics I wish I never bought, 
Legs shaved, powdered face, all beautiful machinery.
Artistic demise behind smudged eyes, I forgot to wash my face last night.
I’m only just getting by.

Built on dreams of dead men, and rumors of dead women 
Never thought I’d breathe again, more drowning than swimming 
God toppled for me long ago, 
Satan’s men then carried me home.
He still likes to wear his halo. 
I followed the rules blindly, buying into false belief when 
The only god I should have been worshiping is me.

Trapped on the line between just fine and losing my mind. 
I feel so alone in the land that you own, but deep in my bones I know
I don’t fit, 
My skin itches, this body isn’t mine anymore 
A girl has no name, and a girl with no name has no home. 
I’ve been living in flames,
Burn this body away.
I am no man. 
I am no woman. 
I don’t know what I am,
but I am


--Katreena B., Adult