Because Barbie was the childhood dream
we spent nights dreaming of;

Because boys step on blossoming flowers 

in the name of snuffing beauty, as we pass

like spring leaves; because

the male gaze spins us into silk 

and weaves us into tight dresses, femininity

melted and molded into lipstick bullets 

and eyeliner wands; because 

the frills of our long dresses should be 

just as beautiful as the distressed denims 

and torn jackets we grasp before men close 

our closets; because we should have the choice to stay 

clothed; because this is not Barbie’s world

and Kens do not gladly welcome us; because

we all deserve an apology but no one’s willing

to speak; because I am

not sad any longer—sorry has always been 

the coward’s excuse, the corset of a male gaze

that can’t constrict us anymore.