For The Girls Who Wait On Unicorns

Chapter 1


they will tell you to pull yourself out of your darkness,
proclaim that untouched skin and unlived years are their own reward.
i was told by my mother at the age of three,
that "unicorns don't come calling on girls who are not innocent,"
and eight years later, she rephrased it to "girls who have tasted blood."
but i warn you, innocence is no virtue.
if you down a bottle of vodka in a single night,
for the simple reason that it is too loud for you to bear,
you are no less worthy than the girl with flowers in her eyes and bows in her hair.
virtue is a hard-won thing.
it is acquired by the swallowing of bullets that set out to kill you,
the ones that you feel clink across your stomach in the dead of night,
and the ones that add on the extra ten pounds you see when you look in the mirror every morning.
goodness is the heavy metal chain hanging from your neck,
dragging your head down until you are slumped over like a woman thrice your age.
your principles are your scars,
and your integrity is not a martyr.
you are allowed to bleed,
take up space.
do not become a shrinking woman like so many have before you,
convinced that they don't matter and insisting that they have to shrink themselves into nothing.
they will tell you that you must stay innocent, dear girl,
but innocence is not starving yourself of the ignorant and feasting upon the wise
and never needing to be clever or shrewd.
innocence is jumping headfirst into the sea,
and not knowing how to escape from the waves crashing over your head.
innocence is weeping over the unicorn's bloody carcass,
because you never realised the men only wanted it for it's horn.


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