A Girl Grows

museum

museum

i had a dream.

perhaps it was a vision;
i am not sure.

there is a particular feeling
that crawls on your flesh
when you are dreaming,
but you are aware you are dreaming,
and my legs felt like chopsticks as I walked.

i felt cold;
my mind froze;
my thoughts crystallized.

the hallway was immaculate,
black,
desolately dark.

there was cool marble under my bare feet, white and simple, clean;
i walked into a large doorway, because
there was nowhere else to go.
everything else was smothered in a kind of darkness i cannot describe;
a lonely feeling;
i wished to meet someone in this place,
feel another girl's skin,
speak to another's ears.

i walked into a room wide enough to capture a thousand voices,
so big that i felt small,
so small that i felt big.

people!

humans;
i watched them laugh to each other,
point, gleefully chatter.

i was delirious with happiness
and anxiety;
confusion;
i did not understand what this place was and why i was here, but
just the presence of people
made me feel slightly comforted.

"hello," i said
to a nearby girl with dark, shining hair like me.

she turned, stared.

"what is this place?" i asked her,
and my oblivion dumbfounded her.

she sniffed.
answered in a sort of haughty tone,
as if she knew so much more than me,
which was most likely true;

"you should know. it's a museum," she told me, as if this was clearly observable, and left my sight just as quickly.

though a little staggered,
i collected myself and smiled;
she was surely nice enough,
telling me where i was,
and i had no need to feel spite towards her.

i looked up at the displays,
wondering what sort of museum this was;
i expected to see paintings, maybe,
or old artifacts;
instead i peered upon strangely familiar body parts, and everything.

in front of me stood one body part,
encased in glass, although people constantly tried to touch it;
i wanted to tell one man that
the displays were off limits,
but my words choked in my throat.

this particular part
was shocking to me;
it was a girl's breasts,
on view for everyone to see,
but clothed in a scanty cloth
for some modesty;
my eyes quickly fell to the ground,
for i felt i was invading someone's privacy by staring too long.

i heard different voices,
scattered around me;
both male and female;
they shocked and horrified me—
their comments were vile,
crude,
full of conceit;
the words cut deep into my skin and stayed there.

"...some nice tits..."

"...what a slut..."

"...her boobs are hanging out..."

"...she's flat on both sides..."

"...tits. that's all she's good for, really..."

i ran.

the room was large enough so that i could run for some time and never crash into a wall;