Inhibition

If I was uninhibited
my hair would be wild and long
my eyes would be dark-ringed (like they used to be)
I would wear silver boots – legs akimbo -
and show my cleavage whenever I felt like it. 
 
If I was uninhibited
my house would be a sumptuous,
beautiful, eccentric mess -
as would I.
And if I was uninhibited
I would take up space like I meant it;
Sisters, there would be so much more of me.
 
If I was uninhibited, you would know me.
 
If I was uninhibited,
I would take back my sexuality -
lock stock and both smoking barrels -
and refashion it entirely for my own ends
 
If I was uninhibited
I would be spunky as you like
spilling over with generosity
I would be in the fray, punching my weight,
all muscles and teeth-baring,
snarling, howling, shrieking uproariously
and with the biggest shit-eating most glorious radiant grin
you have ever seen -
that is, when I wasn’t being silent because -
well, because.