no one warns little girls.
how boys with such pretty eyes, who smell like smoke, who taste like rain, who talk like silver, are the reasons behind tear soaked pillows, half finished poems and so many sad dreams.
no one warns little girls how suicide is only a permanent response to a temporary problem and a solution to nothing.
no one warns little girls that soon they will begin to hate there bodies, starving, staring, waiting for a similarity to the insane reality they hope will come.
no one warns little girls how they shouldn't smile because it only makes them prettier and more desirable.
no one warns little girls of the expectations set upon them.
