![](https://thethirteenthalchemist.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/patchwork-love.webp)
Patchwork Love
It’s not me that you want
At least not the intense, untamed, incorrigible me
You’ve affixed a mental mold – a preconceived
narrative of what a woman should be
You prefer me as putty in your hands
Pliable, yielding, unquestionably conforming
While you, a singular master of your craft
Lovingly pare all my choicest bits away
Remade, censored, silenced
Frankensteined like a patchwork quilt
Gorgeous to behold, I’m sure
In an abstracted, unholy, fragmented way
A caricature maybe? Fashioned to obey
Lovely yet lacking, a program on replay
![](https://thethirteenthalchemist.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/beautiful-black-women-sitting-in-heart-shaped-chai-upscaled-75x75.webp)