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Don’t make waves, don’t rock the boat. My first memories - fingers over lips, Shhhhhhhhh. Tip toe tip toe in God’s house - Little girls are sugar and spice and silence. Smile, be friendly, don’t get in the way, Origami fold your dreams so tiny they fit between the cracks. Bite your tongue until it bleeds, just remember to always hold it back. No one likes a girl who takes up too much space. But I never excelled at contortion. I was too tall, my feet too big. There was nothing tiny about me, all gangly limbs and too many words. Imagination bursting from the seams, Spilling out into the universe like an Arctic aurora across the night sky. I glittered, shimmered, burned with passion that colored all my dreams - Phosphorescent in my sleep. How could they hide a girl that glows? They always talked about burning bridges as if it were a bad thing, the worst thing. I guess they forgot that some of us can swim, or fly, or even take the road less traveled by. Oh, my darling, never let them tame your fire. Let the glow of all those burning bridges light the way.
Conk’s Brain is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
Don’t make waves, don’t rock the boat. My first memories - fingers over lips, Shhhhhhhhh. Tip toe tip toe in God’s house - Little girls are sugar and spice and silence. Smile, be friendly, don’t get in the way, Origami fold your dreams so tiny they fit between the cracks. Bite your tongue until it bleeds, just remember to always hold it back. No one likes a girl who takes up too much space. But I never excelled at contortion. I was too tall, my feet too big. There was nothing tiny about me, all gangly limbs and too many words. Imagination bursting from the seams, Spilling out into the universe like an Arctic aurora across the night sky. I glittered, shimmered, burned with passion that colored all my dreams - Phosphorescent in my sleep. How could they hide a girl that glows? They always talked about burning bridges as if it were a bad thing, the worst thing. I guess they forgot that some of us can swim, or fly, or even take the road less traveled by. Oh, my darling, never let them tame your fire. Let the glow of all those burning bridges light the way.
Conk’s Brain is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.