Little Girl Grown
She still believes
She never stood tall.
She never felt like she had the right to.
Her back was always bent just a bit, her head hung down in shame.
The shame she could never outrun, no matter her speed.
She knew that she was expected to put everybody else’s needs above her own.
She was a good girl.
She did what she was told.
She learned early that what she wanted didn’t matter.
Her purpose on Earth was to make sure other people were cared for.
To smooth the wrinkles in any adult’s brow.
It didn’t matter how.
A good girl does what she’s told, no matter how much she doesn’t want to.
She learned early.
And she never stopped believing it.
Sometimes, as she grew, she told herself that she didn’t have to be this way.
Sometimes the flame in her belly protested, even as she did what she knew she was meant to.
She never stopped believing it.
A good girl does what she’s told.
The little girl with pigtails grew into a woman who hated herself with every breath she took.
She grew into a woman who still knew that she didn’t matter.
The little girl was now a woman who was always okay with people treating her badly.
Even when she wasn’t.
Her smile stretched wide, as she died a little more inside.
The little girl with pigtails still knows.
The only reason she’s here is to make sure other people are happy.
Even when that makes her question why she’d want to be alive.
Little girl grown, a little more each year.
She does matter.
She tells herself on repeat.
Because she still forgets.
A good girl does what she’s told?
She owes the world nothing.
She can fan the flame and let it burn.
Burn the world down if she must.
Perhaps it’s her turn?