my thoughts:

people talk about girlhood only in the way of sexual awakening.

                                 desire, lust, love
                                 broken hearts, first kisses

and they forget to write about the other girls;
no wonder they felt lonely.

these girls who didn't listen to you and knew there was poetry elsewhere.

                                 poetry, literature, music
                                 art, so much art

they lapped up chances to sit with all of it.

how is that not girlhood?
why is there a 'model' girlhood?
why is my girlhood,

                                stewing and seething in unrecognised rage,
                                cursing the gods they set up 30 feet high on a pedestal,

                                not desired,
                                      nor desiring,

                                desire, but not for love,
                                desire for finding that one thread that unravels the truth.
                                     (who knows what truth)

                                desire for sickly sweet summers,
                                rotting fruit,
                                     just so i could watch,
                                     the juices festering,
                                     turn rancid,
                                     painting my floors (my mind)

not valid, how is it not 'model'?
       if it made me who i am.

i was a girl,
and i raged too,
only without the heartbreak,
but a frenzy, girls against god.