Good Little Girls

They always said

Good little girls follow the rules.

They cook and they clean,

Raise the babies, tend to the husband,

And teach their daughters to do the same.

But they never said

How good little girls need release.

How the chores and the hassles,

Giving, but never getting,

Can leave you with a tired, aching soul.

They never said

Good little girls turn to bad habits.

They do what they can, and then some,

And then turn to the Forbidden Fruit

To handle a sentence dealt to them at birth.

They never said

Good little girls can fall apart.

How they struggle from taste to taste,

From dose to dose,

Needing more every time.

They never said

Good little girls are weak.

But they also never said they were stronger, either,

Than the trance their release imprisons them in.

They never said

Good little girls tear themselves to bits

But they do it gladly

Just to get another taste.

They never said

Good little girls die.

Taken before their time,

Not by another's hand, no,

But by their own as they try to get one last rush

Of the only comfort they thought they could get.

They always said

Good little girls follow the rules.

But they never said what those rules do to you,

And what happens when you try to escape.