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Ink spills and paper hearts

When you grow up as a girl, you’re taught to be a lot of things
Like strong
But never, ever stronger than a man
And you’re taught to be brave
But never stand up for yourself, you should know your place
And you must always be smart
But still, “you’re just a stupid girl” so not TOO smart
Outgoing and funny
But silent
And you’re supposed to be independent
But of course, you need a man in your life, darling
You must always be soft and feminine
And caring, and loving, and kind
But wait, don’t show emotion, you’re just another crazy woman
Now, don’t be a prude
But never act slutty
And it;s just pathetic to hate yourself, you’re so desperate, asking for attention
But how could you love yourself so much, you conceited bitch
Don’t be too tall or too short or too thin or too curvy,
It’s really best not to be too much of anything
Just make sure that you’re never boring
When you grow up as a girl, you must learn to be a contradiction
And understand that you’re less because of it




"One day someone is going to ask you if you’ve ever been in love;
And before you think about the way he said your name,
Remember that it passed through lips that still tasted like her chap stick.
And before you tell them about the time he sang to you and kissed your scars,
Remember how he was out with her the night he left you alone with your razor.
Stop.
Before you think about the way you fit into his arms so perfectly,
And the feeling you got when he fell asleep on your lap, while you ran your fingers through his hair
Remember when he told you that you were too tall, but she was just his height.
That your hair was too boring, and you should cut it just like hers.
Before remembering the sparks that surged through your body whenever he dug his fingertips into your hips, leaving the little half-moons of his fingernails in your skin, and how alive that made you feel
Remember how you felt when he told you that, “without that body, no one would love you”
And before you think that just because you gave him all that you had, it was love
Remember that you deserve to be taken to dances and kissed in parking lots and woken up to breakfast on Sunday mornings and wrapped in blankets on chilly evenings
And when the question comes,
Remember that you deserve the best
And don’t let your answer be anything except
yes, but only with myself."

inkspilledonpaperhearts



Revised.









"Poetry is at least an elegance and at most a revelation." -Robert Fitzgerald





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