By: Amber Wilder
“You should smile more.
You’d be prettier if you did.”
“You’re way too pretty to not be smiling.”
“Can I get a smile?”
What part of nothing is wrong with me and perhaps I
have RBF or my countenance is just the way it is relaxed. Or maybe
just maybe I don’t want to smile is so hard for you to comprehend.
My smiles, my teeth, my cheekbones, my gums are mine.
Everyone doesn’t feel the same façade of joy
I embrace the bad days and so-so days as well as the
Telling me to smile only pisses me off more.
It makes me imagine in great vivid detail many scenarios on how
I can wipe that pretentious entitled smirk
Off your face.
My smiles are mine, not for you to command
Like a horse & pony show.
I don’t perform for you.
If I decide to bless you with a smile, I will. You will know this because I will smile.
You don’t have any power or
Possession over me.
It seems that you fail to see that you have no ownership over my agency.
Over my body. Over what I do.
What I say and whom I speak to on the daily basis.
You have no control over what I think and feel.
I don’t owe you a thing.
Women don’t owe you a damn thing.
So no, I will not smile more.