There’s a woman in my building
who hides her heart between her legs
in the hopes that maybe then she might actually
See, around here, girls grow up on the sidelines
of their own bodies:
taught their “virtue” belongs to boys
before it ever belongs to themselves.
There are words you just don’t say and
all of them are slang words for vaginas.
There’s a little girl down the street
too young for this kind of heartache.
She sprays perfume on the unseen monster
between her thighs
as a gift for the boy she thinks
she’s fallen in love with—
afraid he’ll leave without reason to stay,
afraid he’ll be too disgusted by the new hair
below her belly
to even touch her.
We grow up grooming the good from our bodies.
Grow up the enemy.
Eve and the apple,
Pandora and the box:
taught women are the root of all evil,
our bodies the fiendish unholy,
Like succubi of the subway,
they call it our fault
that men turn to animals around us.
Generations of girls huddled beneath the sheets,
guilty hands between their guilty thighs,
convinced that touching themselves
is the worst kind of crime.
Meanwhile the boys on the street
gather in groups and crow at the breasts
of the girls who pass by.
But boys will be boys, right?
Best to let sleeping bitches lie.
im like pre stress stressed like im stressed about the stress that i will b stressed about 4 school……………..education is magical
A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid anymore.