to be so small in the world and so large in your own body.
i felt like i was a plant bursting from it's pod,
a brigtening bulb.
you want so much
to know you are better,
know you are diffrent.
you feel the sting of puberty fade into
the bruise of adolesence.
it's a long-enduring dull pain,
the pain of slouching in your chair
so as not to be seen,
the pain of chewing your fingernails.
nothing fit me because of my new hips,
my new skin.
i was a giant among fairies,
lumbering silently.
kisses became the singularity of a black hole,
touch became the precursor to flushed cheeks.
you wanted to be touched,
to feel like all those girls in the movies.
how did they do it
so freely and without care?
how did the other girls
kiss and smile and fit snuggly into their cute clothes?
they had gone from girls to women,
but i was stuck somewhere in between.
the urge for flesh on flesh,
the tingling, pulsing betwix my thighs--
i wanted to satisfy it.
my hair hung in long sad ropes,
and my breasts were small rounds of skin;
how could anyone want me when i didn't want myself?
you are angry at the world,
for no reasons other than you need to be angry at something.
i kept growning and growing,
i was angry, i was horny,
i was sad, i was lonely,
because i was sixteen.
