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girlhood MAG
July 14, 2015
This shop is full of Charlottes and Emmas
And I can see that their fingernails are bleeding
But most are only watching their pink
lips move
Their skin is made of cream and porcelain
I wonder when they lost the moon dust that filled the gaps in their bones
And when they traded rubies for black eyes
And how no one can see the dreams that leak from their ears
It’s hard to comprehend how oblivion is no match to a painted face
How they don’t see underneath
Under their fabric of being
What they’re hiding when heads are turned
And the city is quiet
© Paula B., Katy, TX
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