It’s too bad I was born
this way. Stuffed in this box
of a body, this thin,
sickly skin so over run 
with social custom. 

It’s too bad I’m so appealing, 
a thing to be had,
a desire to be held. 
Not a person, a mind held 
in flesh, a heart.

It’s too bad my name
is woman. 
I hear the world 
is so much sweeter
with freedom on your lips.