She Keeps Bees

[7] Oh, girl.

Age 16,

Age 17.

(from June and April)

- - - - - -

I've always been a small girl.

Tiny feet, tiny hands, tiny body.

Always been told that "You're pretty, but small",

Being told that I look 7, when I was 11.

I've always been a loud girl.

Big words, placed in haphazard sentences.

Always been told to "Be quiet".

Being told that I spoke too much.

But, if I tell you that I don't understand what you say and that I'm not here to play,

Will you believe me when I tell you that I don't understand the world the way my father does?

That I'd rather edit pictures, or read books by myself than go shopping?

I'm a girl.

What if I tell you that I forget that I have liner on?

I rub my eye and turn into a racoon,

but I don't care if my face is streaked with paint.

I'm not a delicate flower,

a string of shiny nothings,

a fated card

or a box to be stuffed with your misdirection.

I've never lived in calm waters,

I'll never be a doormat.

I'm more than what I wear in my hair or on my feet.

I'm more than my red lipstick, a Zara scene.

The only egg I've ever eaten is a KinderJoy, but chocolate never asked me my waist size and neither did my beloved, so, why should you?

I can break out into Sarah Kay's spoken word poetry,

I can tell you where to find chaandbalis in Sarojini market,

I can tell you exactly when Indira Gandhi was born, where she died,

I can tell you the stories I concocted about slaying dragon,

I can talk about the Fiscal policy and Fuchsia.

I want to go travelling without a camera by my side,

meet people and lose my way with words,

I want to write a book or two,

and make a 3-day trip to Mars;

desires so typical to being 15.

But, these dreams don't go away!

I think I've inked them,

into my paper heart.

I want everything in between the two states of being.

I can barely play 'Monoploy' without throwing the board in a fit,

but they trust me to handle the finances at home,

to raise a family.

It's okay,

I can do both, be both.

I can learn to laugh at the tiny details, while forgetting the big picture.

I'm a girl, I'm a person.

I'm not witty or pretty, but I know I'm beautiful.

I don't want your words,

and if that's all you have;

then you can go suffer silently.

In sneakers or in heels,

With books or with a Starbuck's coffee,

nothing defines me,

labels me,

boxes me,

or stops me.

I am who I am,

and

there is nothing you can say

or do

about it.