"A woman grows up with mythology stitched into
ill fitted dresses.
She’ll break hearts, they say.
Not a second
of girlhood is unintentional."
*blows raspberry*
I think I've written this poem better before, nor is it really a poem worth writing right now.
Into the abyss you go.
I love that we’re two women shaving each other’s heads,
I’m plucking hair off my face and she’s painting her lids gold, I love it.
I love every burn, sting and scrape.
It feels like sisterhood, like survival, like playing a game we’ve been taught
when we were too young.
But damn,
we play it so well now."
— Bargain Bin Beauty Bonding.
A poem I wrote 3 ish years ago, really I don't need to rewrite it, but it needs a rework.
Corvus Robotica
StevenDBT