(They tell us)
Real women have cuuuurrrrrrrvesssss
-Gotta draw that out real slow, let the word trace along the edge of the
Fat thighs, round hips, breasts like balloons every little boy
want to die in
Real women look after themselves,
legs like stilts that hold up the pedestal balanced there,
low flat belly, chest like a smooth wave in the ocean
sharp cheekbones cut like ice if you aren’t
Perfect(ly made; don’t tell me
that’s a real woman)
Anorexic overeater tell you hormones make the lady
but that facial hair they say to shave says otherwise,
now don’t it?
(They tell us)
Real women take care of their own, work hard, bring that money home and
ain’t no real women go away all day and leave her kids.
Real women stand up for themselves, don’t take no shit
get that dinner ready on the table when your man gets home
Keep him fed
Feed him good.
(They tell us)
Real women don’t belong HERE in this restroom
Real as the ache of not being seen,
real as the ache of being questioned every day, from the inside,
Who am I, and why am I here?
Real as the knowledge that power comes from the pocketbook
and that your breasts are weapons to be feared
even if
they haven’t started yet.
Real as the leaves in the hair, the rocks in the knees on a dark dirt road cause you need
a place to stay that night
and when you’re fifteen,
nothing feels like home.
Real as the blood on the sheets, the blood on the arms, the blood on your face
waking up in tears
remembering.
Real as the day long hours wondering why you weren’t made
like all the other
Real Women
with their fat flat asses and their sharp smooth hips and their
curves worn damp with time
erased
Real like knowledge
Real like the mirror, waiting to look back
And feel complete.