Coming of Woman

I never understood certain phrases as a girl.
“She wears her heart on her sleeve,” they told my father
And he would agree and I would play smart 
And I would agree despite my own obliviousness.

I kept my heart right where it was placed for me.
“Keep her close before she grows further from you,” they told my father
And he would torch me at his side and I would not stray
And I would become comfortable with the burn in my chest.

I never steered too far from the house.
“Watch over her like a hawk before she becomes a meal,” they told my father
And he would stare from the open side and I would not share his eyes
And I would writhe in my pillowy cell with no window to dream from.

I realized I was not a meal but a sacrifice. 
“She must stay pure so she must not let the world dirty her,” they told my father
And he would keep me clean like a doll and I would obey like a sheep
And I would stir in my pen hungry with want to walk amongst oxen.

I understand now what all of these phrases things meant.
“She will be a woman,” they told my father 
And he is sad I became my title and I strut the earth with pride to wear it
And I do all the wrathful ungodly things a woman does.