when you're a little girl
they tell you how
you're so pretty
with your messy little braids
and muddy mary-janes
but they never tell you
you're interesting
or clever
or good-humoured
as if you're useless
to be anything
but pretty
as if the world only loves
those with empty heads
and pretty faces
and that there is no
happiness
to be found
for one
with only
beautiful
thoughts.