GOOD GIRL

Good girl like her father wanted,

bleached Peter Pan collar, no eyeliner to church

Good girl stands in the front row of the choir

Mother tells her to lip-sync, teaches her

to sing like she’s underwater

Good girl is nicknamed the Pacific Ocean,

men drown in her depths, call her lover,

call her siren, call her nothing

Good girl’s face a Picasso painting,

too vibrant, too distorted to be called beautiful

Good girl tears Proverb 31:30 from the Bible

throws it into the endless ocean

Good girl screams underwater,

men catch her cries with fishnets,

pour her words into glass bottles

to open when their wives aren’t home

Good girl’s body sinks to the seabed,

men carry her photograph in their wallets,

write poems wishing they could resuscitate her,

bring her salty lips to their own

Good girl, if only someone heard her, they’ll say,

as they throw her screams back into the ocean,

bury her silent heart into damp earth,

cover her limp body with a cloth,

read her eulogy and realise they never knew her name

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Anna Matheson, 26, Wellington - New Zealand ✯ IG: @anna_kate13

“Anna Matheson is an aspiring writer who resides in Wellington. By day she works at a kindergarten, but by night she types away on her turquoise typewriter and questions how to pay off her student loans. Her poem ‘Camelia and Crab Apple Trees’ is being published in the upcoming edition of The Quick Brown Dog journal.”