Its my body, my money, its up to me what I do with it. But everyone else is wearing it. I cant help the way I feel. Blonde Red Orange Brown Purple DMs purple with pink laces school skirt altered in the textile lab 3" shorter hormones racing, zipping, vibrating, fizzing till the top pops stairs made for stomping and storming cackling laughter crackling down the telephone wire clothes left on the bedroom floor abandoned for a girl crisis.
You cant read my mind read my lips read my body read my journal sandwiched between the midriff covering cottons gran bought for Christmas and the skimpy lace thong I'd be grounded for buying
Mother's mattress sanitary towels tossed aside for shamefully purchased tampons instructions included
and time has passed and masks have fallen and I find you there in the muck and the mire and dust you off until
I see your face - all mothers lipstick and glittering pink eye shadow and the smile that stores secrets in a treasure chest. Your legs shake like Bambi's but you get to your feet and nestle yourself into me warmly, strongly until you fall right into me and you run and you run and you run and you run and you run right through my veins giggles throbbing through my pulse pajama parties and homemade perfume radiating in my eyes and there you are and there I am.
This poem was inspired by and dedicated to Eve Ensler and her book 'I am an Emotional Creature' which expresses girlhood in relation to men and women as something which we are all encouraged to surpress. This is a snippet of my girlishness - the girl I was, am and will always be. Written 2011