It’s been considered—
maybe I wasn't meant
to be
what you'd call
“ladylike.”

Sure, the word—
it sounds pleasant enough—
the way it rolls off the tongue
with its pale pink sound
& its clean contours that
kiss the corners of the mouth
just so.

What girl
wouldn't want to be something
that pleasurable
to sound out?

No.

I don’t want to be something
so subtle.

I want to be the word
that's craggy and creased—
the word
that bites so hard
on its speaker's lip,
all other syllables
slip the mind
& they're left
with only mine.

I want to be the word
you remember
weeks later,
& silently repeat to yourself
when you’re alone with your thoughts—
the word
that feels so satisfying to say,
it's unable to be muted.

Yeah.

“Ladylike” won’t hold a candle
to that word
when I happen to find it.