grrrl pwr

at age 13:

girls were Sluts; Bitches, Whores, or Prudes, 

and we thought that the length of jean aeropostle shorts

were fuses that would lead to some dangerous explosion of promiscuity because:

the gentle line of a bra strap on a bony shoulder

and a v-neck on a flat chest

and spindly knees peeking out from a frilly skirt were 

cries for attention, black flags of surrender meant to 

catch a boy's eyes.


there's nothing crueler than Middle School Girls

who, in their 4 or 5 foot capacitites, 

have the ability to tear each other apart, in packs, 

like hungry lionesses.

and the amount of times that Marie kissed Jeremy

against the background of school lookers, 

or what-Jessie-told-me-that-Rachel-told-her-that-Jacki-texted-Ava-who-tweeted-WHAT

Marie let Jeremy do to her

hung over Marie like the mark of a limping gazelle, 

because what Marie said and wore and did

was not hers; it was food - for thought.


at age 18:

girls are Goddesses; Smart, Powerful, and Strong

and like some inverse mathematical principle, 

as shoulders broadened

and chests expanded

and lets grew longer in shorts, 

the lionesses shrank to become birds, 

and in bright feathers or dull ones

stubby, long, full, or unequal wings

they flew in flocks, or alone, and didn't care at all.

at age 18, women soar.

This poem is about: 
My community



Beautiful words, such a shame that's the evolution of some women.

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741