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how come I never knew

what it felt like

to be a girl?

i thought I knew
i thought it was the skirts
or the nails
or maybe the boys
the love that you wish from them

but I think i must’ve fell
or wandered
in some warm solace

a house, perhaps
decorated with pillows and candles
echoing
with the distant laughs of women
holding each other
from everywhere in the world

and I realized,
i realized
theres so much more

there is the night: the way it seems blurry
flies over you
flies around you as
you fumble around your friends,
hands touching hands
for the perfect picture

and that silent moment
when you all try to capture a thousand words
in a smile

it is the loss of air
it is laughing
over voice messages
and looking at yourself in the mirror
and realizing it the first time you’ve
liked the way you smiled

it is the nails
the skirts, sure
but it is so you can laugh over them
and twirl around them
and hold hands with them
and giggle

it is the boys; sure, they are distant and figureless
but it is not them
it is how they are used
to learn more about ourselves

over a sweet piece of cheesecake

and we laugh at them
sorry,
but we do laugh at them

not because they are stupid, or dumb
but because we pity them
for having the constant expectation

to know

to hold

a girl’s world in the palm of their hand

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