We are so still in form and slient as an auction,?

waiting for bids.?

Beautiful, consumable, and in a wide range of?

colors, styles, and prices!?

Though I don’t remember peeling off my pricetag,?

the sticky, tacky, lipgloss residue will always be there to remind me that

?I: OBJECT?

YOU: SUBJECT

?ME: FOR SALE

?MEN: READY TO BID?

When will they realize that they didn’t program us with thoughts or feelings or opinions

?or that my personality didn’t come off of an assembly line?

?I’m starting to get lost in my objectification ?

and cropping up in male subjectivity.

?I find myself when a man slaps the hood of his car and says, ?“Well, she’ll run good now!”

?or when wearing makeup is considered “false advertising”?

but I don’t remember being an infomercial

?or a product on a shelf.?

I’m not a vehicle or a Barbie doll,

?I’m a person, ?and I’m tired of people putting a price on my head

?when I want to be free.”