Little Girl, Little Girl

Little girl, little girl

Why’ve you got boy’s hair?

Why’ve you got weird sentences

spilling from your mouth

And why’ve you got the wrong words

for every situation?

Why’re you so much?

I’ve got explanations, little girl

for your strange persuasions;

your brain don’t work like theirs,

Never has and never will,

No matter how much Mom says

It's fine, We would’ve caught it earlier

It isn't and they didn’t.

You’re not wrong in the head,

No, little girl, you’re not wrong.

No, little girl,

who won’t be a girl for much longer,

you’re not strange

No, little girl,

who will forget her love of pink

to be ‘stronger’

but at fourteen they’ll remember,

you’re not insane,

No, little girl,

who will exchange gluey hands

and glittery mouths

For bloody lips and fingertips,

Mom just don’t realize,

No, little girl,

you’re not too much.

They’re not enough for you.