Growing Up as a Girl

Bella Proper

Growing up should make me want to rejoice, But as a young girl, it makes my skin crawl. “Keep your legs crossed,” says his snarky voice, “You are a girl and must act like a doll.”

And then I was ten, with dreams of free-range, But why does school only hear him day by day? So maybe if I grow up things will change, Yet now I’m growing and I am his prey.

Shall I sit still and bite my dirty tongue, Or let that man bark at me like a dog?

I scream my song at the top of my lungs, But my voice has long since been lost in fog.

Now I’m old and gray, pouring one more cup, All alone, wishing I never grew up.