Poetry: Worth

I know the worth of my body.
Look at it
Measure the height
The distributions
Yes to that
No to this
Take note of the age
The wear
The skills and lack of
Write a side note about the hair color
The eyes
Quality of teeth
Scaling each inch
Counting the flaws
The scars
The stretch marks
The wrinkles
The moles
The freckles
Each one brings its own deduction from the value
And each is marked, noted, remembered.

I know the worth of my body.
I counted the zeros you placed upon the page
After your inspection
So thorough that my humanity fled from the flesh
As the eyes bore into my skin,
Marking me to remind yourself
Each transgression to my flesh
Every detail that indicated
I am not fair.

And I get in line with all the other bodies
Each with their own place
According to worth of the flesh
And I’m in the back
As those who are fair
Are showcased first.

But this is not the system that you value me by.
What is the worth of an opinion?
A laugh?
A memory?
A thought?
A promise?
An action?
A feeling?
What is my worth if you do not see me as a body?