The Cult of Girl

Little baby swaddled in cotton 

Crying like she already knew 

How different this world would be 

From the warmth of her mother’s 


From the world where no one told her what to do 

Where she could change positions 

Taking a stand early enough 


Life found her feet first 

Wrestled from her mother 

With a surgical knife and gauze 

She would never know how to girl 

She’d try 

From moving pictures 

To friends  

It all seemed natural to everyone else 

They all seemed to know what to say

What to do 

What stare to give 

Smiles encircled with colour 

Making frozen hearts beat through ice 

She did not know how 

She was ice 

Face seemingly set in stone like a Gargoyle in the day 

Beauty seemingly wasted 

On someone so strange 

Life isn’t all it can be 

For a woman outside the cult of girl.

Author: loladeniyi


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.