Just a woman.

I write this word every day and in many ways.
I don’t think you will ever understand how free I wish I was.  
You will never know how much you contain me
with your ideas of who I am,
or what I should be,
what I should wear or
the colour of my hair.  
And because you try to define me the way you wish I was,
you will never know who I am.
I am no one to you, after all.
Just a woman.