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The girls, are growing up, We forgot about that princess love, The waiting for men to cover our broken bodies in their poetry love, We let go of swallowed silent prayers of wanting to feel “pretty” We ate their expectations and we vomited up the number of date rape cases. So now here I am. I’m 16. I do not want princess love, For I have learnt that more and more girls, Are handcuffed to their fairy tales, They lose themselves in Snow Whites Instagram mirror of beauty, Until everyone is comparing themselves to the next “pretty”, Until no one can even describe what it feels like to have joy or to experience happiness. I am afraid of love, Because of the only boyfriend I ever had, Because he liked to take everything he couldn’t have, All I have left now is broken syllables of a poem that once sang of my happiness, So now I’m cold? I’m afraid of cat calls, And boys who laugh at intelligence, And rape jokes. I’ve been taught that love isn’t something I want to have, Let me rephrase that, The love that society shows me isn't something I want to have, No more hiding my interests in fear of boldness, In fear of the “oh” after initial interest, I mean I’m tired of blaming myself for not being enough to satisfy Prince Charming, Because I don’t have a pretty dress, I have chosen no love, Because honestly I am afraid that once people find that I’m hard to love, That they will leave me, Stranded on the steps of a palace, Or broken down on a concrete pathway, Or in the school bathroom after a sexual assault, Or at the police station repeating myself over and over and over again, because no seems to believe me. But I will have to pick myself up You know? A teacher once told me That guys don’t like short hair. It was the day after I chopped off all my hair. Now I know love means pretty. But my hair is still short. I don’t want princess love, Cause I don’t need a prince to love me. Cause Disney also taught me. That a frog works just fine too.
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