growing up

Tea Parties

This little girl has a story:
She grew up in a dark world,
But was surrounded by pinks
And soft pastel colours,
Barbie dolls and tea cup sets,
Clothes for princesses,
A tiara to top it off.
It was the perfect facade…
Pink reminded her of blood –
And pastel was the colour of happiness she hated…
Barbies were her mother,
And tea cups symbols of oppression.
Princess clothing – a mocking gesture to the world,
And a tiara – the final broken halo of goodness.

She cast her spells
(curses – that sort of thing)
And sprinkled her glitter.
(cyanide – looked like weird snow!)
She baked everyone cookies
(filled with rat poison)
and even gave her neighbours gifts!
(bombs – strong enough to damage, but not kill)

She was the sweetest girl,
She was happy too!
Can we blame her then
For living happily?

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The act of growing up?

She just wants to be touched,
have someone reach out and grab her…
Make her feel like she’s worth the pain…
Let her know she can make someone
feel that way.
She puts herself out there;
she knows one thing:
she isn’t ready.
But everyone else is doing it!
Maybe this is what it means to grow up…
She doesn’t know but she will,
she will because she’ll be hurt:
and she will be scarred;
and she will be damaged;
and she will be broken;
But that’s the only way
someone like her will learn.