Woman

To be a woman
A working woman
A "strong" woman

To go to work anyway
Even if it means taking an ibuprofen an hour
Because missing work every single month is a sign of weakness
And your excuse is one no man can understand

To run further, lift more often, work out longer than the guys
Even if it takes you twice as long
And your sports bra is too tight
And your hair is in your face because there will never be enough clips to keep it back
And to walk away and hear them say
"That took her so long,
She must be out of shape"

NEVER to complain that something is "because you're a girl"
Even when it is
Because prejudice is no excuse for work that only mostly exceeds expectations

And never ever only to reach expectations
Because any shortcoming will be noted

To buy pants that emphasize the "right" parts
And shirts that hide the "wrong" parts
God forbid you have a body
To buy cute scarves and belts and earrings
And put your mascara on just right
But never, ever, let the guys know
That you were
Shopping
Because shopping is mindless, frivolous
Even though it takes so much effort
And they would never respect you if dressed any differently

To avoid going to a Liberal Arts College
Because liberal arts are "feminine"
And therefore frivolous
Even if your major is political science or neuroscience
Which it very well could be

To have no qualms with romance,
Only qualms with romantic guys
Who try to help you
Physically or emotionally
Because this might give them the impression that you need help
And you do not
You are stable and competent
Even if, just once in a while,
It would be really nice
To be allowed to need
And not be the weaker for it

To avoid mentioning that you are a poet, a singer, a cook
Although you dedicate your every waking moment to those
Because they are only hobbies
And they are for domestic people
And you are not domestic
But to work your butt off to be good at them anyway
So that if someone does find out
Maybe
They will still respect you
As a person, not a woman

To be a woman
To be told "you're quite a feminist"
By men and women alike
And to maintain as friendly a tone as possible while saying
"No, I am a woman"
And wonder if they will ever get it

Gingersnaps

I wrote this last June, possibly with the intent of posting it in December but sometimes I am not on top of things. Sorry...

Gingersnaps

Flour

~puff~ ~puff~

Like a bowl of snow

Perfect for making little snow angels

Or snow men

Or...

Cookies.

Dash of baking soda

It's so... White

The flour looks less like snow

Baking soda snow on sand of flour

Two dashes of cinnamon

Some ginger

Ground cloves

Soil of all different colors

Whisked together

Layers and layers of spices

Contrasting and then mixing

All shades of brown whisked up into one big

...Flour mixture

New bowl

Brown sugar

~Do not touch the sugar~

~Do not eat the sugar~

~Do not give in to temptation~

Molasses. "Slow as molasses" is truly no joke

And molasses mixed with brown sugar? Even slower

Canola oil? A glop of molasses-sugar in canola oil?

They... really... don't... mix

At all

And an egg

...This is not promising

Add to flour mixture

Glop

And mix

Glop glop glop

Mix... Glop

Mix mix mix

Arms hurt

Roll into balls

Roll in sugar

Truly sugar coated

Little crystals on balls of molasses

Oh but they look

So

Very

Delicious

Can I eat them now?

Bake

Remove

But they're all... Runny

Undercooked?

Even softer than when I put them in

Hmmm

But they harden

Snap

Ginger
And soon they are scrumptious
Ginger

Snaps!

Fallen

I need a better title but for now this is what I've got.
I'm always hesitant to write love poems in the first person because you might confuse the narrator with me, Erin, and that would be quite a disaster. I've tried writing them in third person (see Dew) but usually first makes more sense. In any case, do not think I am my own narrator, I would never say such things :P

Fallen
I said I would not fall for you
You said you'd prove me wrong
But it's easy to see that you fell for me
And I just played along

Those adorable little truffles--
You wanted to make me fat
And to make me think you cared at all,
Lord knows I didn't fall for that

And the butterflies in my stomach,
They must have come out of thin air
Because looking back upon it,
It wasn't you who put them there

And to think you thought I liked you!
You naïve, deluded boy
To think that you could bring me
Any lasting sort of joy

That night we danced together,
And I said you were good
You fell for all my flattery
The way I knew you would

I was madly in love with love
And never, boy, with you
But how I enjoyed watching
For you quite confused the two

Imagine if you'd been right
And I'd been head over heels,
I would have loved to adore you
Just so I'd know how that feels

But you were so happy in my arms,
We both know all too well
That we might have become something--
Thank goodness I never fell!

Shoebox

She opens the old cardboard box, "Converse" across the side
And searches through the memories she worked so hard to hide
His too-long hair and awkward smile and gap between his teeth,
She glances at the polaroid and then looks underneath
A picture from the ocean beach, their legs and backs all bare
A necklace on a golden chain that now she'll never wear
A bright green tank top that forever smelled of his cologne
The yearbook page where he had sworn "You'll never be alone"
That bastard, she thinks to herself, that cruel, dishonest jerk
Months later, she still can't admit that they both needed work
The first Mike's Hard she ever drank, its bottle still in tact
A list called "Why I Love You," barely any of it fact
A love letter she never sent, their picture torn apart,
A ripped out journal page that says "He fucking broke my heart"
A shoebox full of memories of him and her and them
And each time there's another boy, she'll buy new shoes again.