princess
By a.lesser.thing
- 619 reads
A mixture of
amniotic fluid and vernix,
a sliced umbilical cord and
lungs that are still developing.
Breathe, child; your hands do
not make up the size of even one of my fingers,
and this is how I would like to remember you.
Braided pigtails
laced in ribbon, and
a bright purple lunchbox.
A skirt, a unicorn shirt, a
butterfly and a bee. Asks
her father where her heart is,
and where she can find the key.
Luscious lips,
budding breasts,
a vagina that's broken
a bloody sweat. She doesn't
ask for happily-ever-afters, or
sit on the edge of your bed and
ask you to braid her hair anymore.
Prom night.
Silk sheets, a
soiled virginity
and a bleeding
hymen. When she
gets home late, you
ask her how it was, and
she smiles shakily. Heartbreakingly.
To think
you brought
a daughter into
this world, imagining
her as a princess, but
never constructing the castle.
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Comments
It's a beauty, A.l.t, and
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strong write on big themes,
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