Little girl.
You wore your mother like
the warmest sweater
the sleeves were stretched
over your little hands.
She absorbed every color
the world chose to dip you in
but kept the inside blue
because it was your favorite.
Little girl, little girl
You drank your father like medicine
So bitter, yet necessary
I suppose
at least you never intended to overdose
on sticky pride
don’t contort your face so
pretend it is honey.
Little girl, little girl
You ate fiction like candy
And it didn’t matter if you had too much
the sugary pages could never give you cavities
but
you dreamed an awful lot
your young mind ****** on fantasy
but what bright eyes
little girl.
The day
you -
Paused.
To look
At the new face in your grandmother’s mirror
the day you discovered
the strings of mother were unravelling
had been unravelling
since the day you were born
since your first kiss
(it was sweeter than fiction. )
that you were running out
of medicine
out of time
to sneak written caramels
(now you have to stash them
behind your bedpost
because that’s where dreams lie)
to be little girl.
You notice you bear your father’s mouth, and smile
so you gaze and study for a while
this new woman
who is not
little girl
but rather Big
and Defined.
You smile once more
and rise like the red sun
and take a step out the door.