I have grand visions of who I’d like to be 

I wish I could say intelligent, selfless, patient, charismatic, empathetic

But the truth is my ambition is as shallow as plastic 

Synthetic 

I’ve got an eye for pretty things 

Like dresses in the store when they hang 

V necks, A-lines, knee length

I could look mighty fine, I think 

Prints of lace, orchid, and hibiscus 

Minty green, ¾ length sleeves 

But when I get home I realize it’s not me 

And the truth is that it itches 

I’m not cut out for a Macy’s commercial 

Wearing a dress all day for me is an unscalable hurdle

To expose my arms, my legs, in the frigid office AC

To have people gazing at me 

Just isn’t me 

So I have a few pretty dresses hanging in my closet 

Four in fact

When I open the door, I feel a little bit accosted 

By what, some pastel colors? Some lace? 

I’m convinced the Proverbs 31 woman is more than a pretty face 

I opt for comfort: my stretchy black business casual pants and a flowery blouse

I pull my thick hair up (sometimes I want to pull it out)

I wear my $8 silicone ring 

Not my actual wedding diamond bling

Nothing against dresses 

But why women wear them gets all my guesses 

All the dazzling pieces hang in my closet 

The burning desire to look pretty, I’ve lost it

I return to the 31st Proverb 

In my sweatpants and hoodie, undisturbed 

And I close the closet door

Accept who I am – beneath the clothes 

Consider the path the Proverbs 31 woman chose 

And comfortably, as me, in my hollowness (like an empty hanger)

I decide to follow