Crimson Tide
It was the first day of woman hood, however, a fertile womb does not a woman make.
Kelly was only twelve years of age, her demeanor, 25 years her Senior. She stood in the bathroom attempting to analyze the blood in her favorite pair of panties; it stained her jeans as well. Today was picture day at her middle school, she did not wish to be late, fate, however, had different plans. Jan, her mother, who had been patiently waiting in the car, opened the bathroom door and spoke, “I see your journey from girl to woman has begun, fear not, the best is yet to come.”
Kelly smiled, walked into her room, put on her second favorite pair of panties, cotton shorts and a flannel hat. She headed off to school with her self-esteem higher than it was moments before her mother, acting like the moon, called in the tides of shame crashing against her confidence.
Kelly was only twelve years of age, her demeanor, 25 years her Senior. She stood in the bathroom attempting to analyze the blood in her favorite pair of panties; it stained her jeans as well. Today was picture day at her middle school, she did not wish to be late, fate, however, had different plans. Jan, her mother, who had been patiently waiting in the car, opened the bathroom door and spoke, “I see your journey from girl to woman has begun, fear not, the best is yet to come.”
Kelly smiled, walked into her room, put on her second favorite pair of panties, cotton shorts and a flannel hat. She headed off to school with her self-esteem higher than it was moments before her mother, acting like the moon, called in the tides of shame crashing against her confidence.
posted by SLUMP FACADE at 7:02:00 PM
i'm feeling that. every mother of a daughter should have this poem in her possession.
Awwwwwww, nice, brings back memories
this is awesome, you seem to have a handle on the thoughts of women which is really cool.
If I could be a woman I would, but only for like a year in effort to experience how it "feels" to fight the feminine fight...