My shitty poetry diary

What makes us girls

What makes us girls?
Not anatomically,
But what makes us girls?
Is it pearls,
Ribbons,
Long flowing dresses?

It's a longing for more.
It's daydreaming about all things beautiful,
Rotting in your bed,
Crying with your chosen sisters,
Whispering confessions to each other that you wouldn't dare tell your mother,
Or frolicking through abandoned fields.

Chasing after forbidden fruit and only tasting bitter regret,
It's being saturated with rage but only expressing it through salty rivers that flow down your flushed cheeks.
It's being diminished by pompous little boys.

Swaying under the pathos of the moon,
Plucking petals and wondering if he enamors you or disdains you,
Breathing in the sweet soul of roses that fill your senses of all things lovely.

Being a girl is everything,
But being a girl is so much more.