I hate when little girls
I hate when little girls feel safer at school
Than when they sleep at home
I hate when little girls
Must watch the blood fall from their mother's wrists
Like the milk they need for their bones to grow strong
I hate when little girls must cross her legs
In fear of blank faced men
I hate when little girls
Look behind her, in fear of the man behind
I hate when little girls
Must hold her keys between her fingers
Like how she should hold playdough
Waiting til the man, who's been behind her
For a bit too long, to turn the corner
I hate when little girls must sort
The bottles of whiskey, and cans of Pepsi
So she can afford that sweet, sweet
Box of Hamburger Helper, and mother's cigarettes
So hopefully, just maybe
Her mother will see the light of day
I hate when little girls must become loud
In an attempt to comfort her mother
To be heard and seen, for no more laters
No more, "I can't right nows"
I hate when little girls
Are forced to become silent
So she can be easier to swallow
By the men who have ruined her life
And make Mother's life easier
I hate when little girls must move from house to house
Told she's safe now
Things will be different
But it never is
Man's hands go left to right;
Jack's with left, points with the right
His gaze never becoming soft
His words never becoming comforting
Because God forbid he be feminine
God forbid he be kind and open-minded
Listen to the women, raise the little girls well
So future little girls can feel safe at school
And home
