My Old Fairy Wings Paula Araujo Parra
When I was younger, I used to fly with fairy wings And smile with painted butterflies on my face. I wore pink dresses, Hoping I would look like princesses And braided my hair like female warriors, Wishing to gain their same strength.
Why does the world seem to be convinced We don’t deserve the same respect and love We had when we were younger?
Will I be worthy if I let go of my strength, If I become who they want me to be?
I think not.
Yet my fairy wings were cut The moment I turned thirteen—
The day the world ceased to think of me Like a young dreamer
And began to look at me Like a mere body.
The day society began to criticize me Due to my independent demeanor And inability to remain quiet about injustices.
The day their comments evolved From being about the ribbons in my hair To the alleged vulgarity
Of my perfectly covered clothes Or the weight I ought to lose.
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