Graveyard of Reveries

good girl

My mom is lucky that her daughter is good;

no drugs nor alcohol nor boys in my bed;

she says I know all the best roads to take as I should,

and still possess poise and being well-read.

But sometimes life hits me in the back of its hand,

what was once a series of white noises, now a whole song

that goes "sometimes I wish I could feel what it's like for a man

to look at me and be his one and for all".

I hate that this had to be excruciating

when I've been known not to mind

that my charm be absently appreciated

and just catch up to my own deadlines,

and I hate that I might be doing a disservice

to say that I would want to be a trophy

to women who fought to get past this

for once so that boys can look at me,

I hate that I keep punishing my body

so that it glows on murky alleyways,

to be the "hottest chick" at the party,

with the conventional drooly gaze,

I hate that I'd wish I were a candidate

for the golden prize

their lust and desire fabricates,

courtesy of the patriarchy's eyes.

It's like they're a different species,

I'm notably standing at a distance,

pretending not to dream,

but I've been bleeding, please look up for my existence;

you can start being madly obsessed,

burning your eyes from my sensations,

touch my hair, stamp hickeys around my neck,

if you can't want my love, at least want my attention,

just tell them "you like this girl" so that she'd be more of a person,

tell them I'm the sweetest thing,

play right into my theatrics too problematic if I'd spoken,

tell them I'm the best kind of something.

Out of precociousness, I walk on tightropes

so my mother praised her daughter that she's good;

but I wish I spun with the nymphets - Lolita bestowed,

maybe I'm good, but maybe not enough for girlhood -

what's a girl without a boy?

I hate, hate, hate sinking myself to this,

The Lonely Girls Club's envoy;

what's it like having a kiss?

Mom, you look at your daughter and think, "what a good girl,

obedient, too busy for teenage crimes,

always puts herself first," no, Mom, because no boy puts me first,

and looks at your daughter and see a paradise