There was once
A pretty little house
And it had many occupants
But a couple of them here or there
Stripped the pretty
little house bare

So what was once
A pretty little house
was remodeled as a bunker
and on this bunker they built a tower
with its entrance at the top

The further you get to the bottom
the more you see it's appeal
the further you go from your exit
the closer you get to a soul

that once lived in a pretty little house

Tired eyes carried the bags that sank
Descending on ones features,
All heavy and rounded,
Two moons once full became born
Anew.

How funny it is that when you describe a girl you call her pretty, call her beautiful, call her gorgeous.

Our girls grow up with the only compliments they receive to be ones remarking their bodies and yet we wonder why we can't get them to eat.

They grow up believing wither consciously or unconscious they are judges by the bodies.

That the size of their jeans is their caste.  

That if they aren't pretty they are nothing.

Our little girls slather on the makeup and step into their heels smile till the corners of their mouths crack as if life was a beauty pageant and success and happiness were prizes to be won.

When you describe a boy you call his strong, call him tough, call him powerful.

Put the weight of the world in his hands and hope he can handle it.

Our men lead the way and our girls follow.

Why when you see a girl you never call her intelligent, call her resourceful, call her powerful.

Imagine a world where little girls weren't just bodies.

They were the daughters of destiny and the friends of fate.

They could do anything, and they were told that from the second they could listen.

Imagine if our girls could look past their bodies, could pus aside shame and hate and learn to love the vessels.

Imagine if our girls were powerful.

There is a tree by my bus stop.
I do not know when it began flowering,
only that it is.
On each branch, there are delicate flowers, dousing the street in pink and white
magnolias.
she's coming up this summer, finally.
I wish I could show her.

I wish you could see it.

I'm a pair of pretty eyes
Or a cute dress
Nice lipstick

I'm never smart
Nor brilliant
Never inventive
Or resourceful
Not hardworking
Or persistent

Apparently all I am is eye candy