Quiet Girl, Loud Thoughts

Womanhood

a picture in a timber frame

hung on a wire above my head

in the dark behind the glass

a frail girl

meanwhile the adults sat at the

table and there was a caption that said

'little girls should be seen and not heard'

blood spilled from between my legs

after just eleven rotations around

the sun I bled and I bled

cried when mum told dad

ashamed

my body didn't belong to me

when hips burst through my flesh

my chest erupted and suddenly

I belonged

to everyone else

when you don't look like a boy anymore

all they want is to

touch you

'little girls should be seen and not heard'

it was daddy's favourite proverb

sometimes at night I still feel that wire

wrapped around my throat.