Girl-Saint
They made our girlhood taste of sin –
sneered to the boyband phase
and rolled their eyes to our dreams.
Did they not know that we could write
the future with gel pens on puppy notebooks?
Did they not expect us to be proud of
the way we laugh fiercely at sleepovers?
They shamed girls into their mother’s clothes,
stuffing adulthood between their teeth.
I blinked – we went from child-saints to
the Mary Magdalene myth of whore.
Little did they expect us to simply be;
to simply be hysterical and alive and proud,
girls in the rawest sense of the word.
Isadora Azevedo is a fifteen-year-old poet, born and raised in Fortaleza, Brazil. She likes to explore girlhood, her nationality and love of all kinds.