Corsets in My Dress

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The satin lace snakes up my waist,

Restraining, constricting with every loophole,

The menacing chant ordering me to hold it all in, grows louder.

I bite my lip, tasting blood.

My hands are cool as I dig my nails into my clammy palms, so hard that the whites of my knuckles show.

I close my eyes,

Wincing every time the blazing fiery string singes my back,

And I try.

I try to will my body to accept this constraint,

To readily allow this bodice to constrict myself into submission,

To deny the breath of life,

And the flow of blood, and soul,

But I can’t.

I reach behind me, to rip these loathsome laces of my self,

Freeing, liberating with every loophole,

And I no longer hear their voices governing me,

No more chanting, no more changing.

Just stillness and sovereignty.

 

Then finally I open my eyes and realise,

I can breathe.

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5 thoughts on “Corsets in My Dress

      • You know what’s really interesting?! SubhanaAllah, when I wrote this I was using the corset as a figurative personification of societies expectations. Not in the least to do with the material piece of clothing 🙂 Its interesting how everyone can interpret the same thing in so many different lights… The tightening, restriction of breath, and liberation…they were all mental and emotional. As for the corset, I’m pretty sure most people don’t wear it anymore. I think she was alluding to the other forms of subjefication of women through clothes. Hijab sure is an honor, Alhamdulillah 🙂 ❤️

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