Sunday, October 25, 2015


Sister, we are 7 years old
I am telling you a story about three little pigs
and a wolf and you are laughing and wanting to be the pig with the brick house
then we are 12 years old and we are bleeding confusion and anger
cursing the feminine parts of ourselves for being too much too soon
and we build straw houses right next to each other because don't know where to find bricks
and we are 17 and we love him
We are 18 and we love ourselves
We are 19 and now we don't love either
We are 20 when we try to be big bad wolves but it feels like too little too late and we don't even know why we care these pigs anyway
We are 21 and I am telling you the story of us and how the women in our family have been building houses with their bodies since forever and how wolves have always come to blow them down
and you
sister, you are laughing.