Don’t label me by my gender.

Don’t call me “girl.”

And now that I am over 60

Don’t try “old girl”

As in “Let’s get going, old girl.”

I’ll get going.

I’ll run your ass off.

Fire back that tennis ball right at your head.

Cruise past you on my bike,

Or maybe on my skateboard.

I’ll beat you into that cold lake.

And you can’t make me cry.

Things don’t change quite as fast as they should.

But one thing’s for sure.

This girl is not too girlie.

Unless she wants to be.

Then I can put on a dress like the prettiest of them.

Smile sweetly, the way momma said I should.

But don’t underestimate what’s under that pink veneer.


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