You Are A Goddess
In health class they don't teach you much about being a woman.
They don't tell you that your heart is a ticking time bomb,
or that your rib cage sometimes feels like a broken window that everyone is trying to stare into.
They don't teach you how to ignore the sound of car horns trying to get your attention as you walk down the street,
Or how to politely remind someone that
"my face is up here."
They leave you wondering if the word "pussy" ended up an insult
because it refers to a part of the female anatomy,
and if it was really so derogatory,
why the hell was getting "it" all guys seemed to care about, anyways?
They never tell you that if you find someone who treats you like a lady,
their lips won't taste differently from the ones that last broke your heart,
and that after awhile, taking off your clothes will feel like peeling off sunburnt skin.
But they also don't tell you that the Vogue tabloids are wrong,
and that a size 0 won't make you feel any more beautiful than a size 8.
They don't remind you that your self worth does not depend on the number of likes you get on your Instagram photos,
or how many guys are mentally undressing you when you're sitting in math class;
because you were not made to be someone's entertainment,
or a decoration hanging off of some boy's arm.
You are a goddess with universes in your bloodstream, and constellations in your eyes.
All this other shit is just debris.