To be a Good Girl by Hasitha Sameera Varre (18, India)

I traced my fingers 
against the cheap beads 
of tightly bound trinkets 
as it scarred my skin. 
Mama loves jewelry 

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So I breathed smoke 
while she broke my wings 
to make ornaments. 
I held "thamboolam" 
while it glued to my hand 
showing me glimpses of dreaded forever.
Papa wants me to be a good girl
So, I kneeled on glass shards 
and looked pretty. 
I scooched on the floor away from all while I bleed. 
I wrote my last poem 
with plasma. 
Didi says I should be a good wife
​So I ripped up the scruffy 
unfinished pages of Austen 
to clean filthy shelves. 
At last, I swallowed my pen 
to be a good, little girl.