young girls not quite women yet
young girls not quite women yet
standing in bathroom mirrors
like they owe someone an apology
for taking up space.
disappointing breakups—
boys with empty mouths
saying nothing, meaning less,
walking away like they were never there.
trying to stay relevant
in a world that chews youth
and spits it out early,
asking for personal appearances
before you even know who you are.
too thin,
too fat,
too short,
too tall—
the measuring tape wrapped tight
around a breathing soul.
the brutal truth
is too hard to bear:
they will never stop judging,
never stop pointing,
never stop selling you
the idea that you are unfinished.
but the jokes on them—
none of them matter.
not their noise,
not the mirrors,
not their perfect straight teeth,
not their mouths full of self disappointment.
you will be successful
the moment you stop asking permission
to exist.
follow the voice in your head—
the quiet one,
the stubborn one,
the one that keeps getting up
after everything knocks it down.
it will lead you back home,
and home
was never their approval
to begin with.
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