The Female Psyche (REVISED)

I’m too heavy to ride the flimsy new wooden
chairs forwards with a bang you pointed out;
knowing its true angered then saddened me,
hating you, though I preach forgiveness and
respect yet can’t stand criticism, as if my

Self-esteem depends on your opinion of me;
it’s bizarre, weight can’t dictate how to deal
with my environment - I hate the beautiful
new wooden table and chairs while this has
nothing to do with them - every time we fall

Prey to emotional upset our physical system
is weakened; 80-year old mom’s kept young
by music in her veins; I’m livened by words,
iambic pentameter lines my poetry-studying
son says - though I doubt my expression

Merits this description, writing only helps me
cope - I’m emotionally fooling myself to think
self-esteem depends on weight - oh no - of
course it does, since this is just the way the
female psyche operates…