I was grown beneath the pressure

of a man’s gaze,

baited along this life

with their false promise of worthiness.

I fell to my knees,

in service to the hope

that I might be seen,

that I might be heard-

instead I am mocked for looking so small at their feet.

I now exist beneath the pressure

of a man’s gaze,

echoes of their disapproval

ring through the chasm of my soul,

proving my emptiness

again and again

until I submit.