A Snibbler and a Dildo

As soon as a girl consumes the "eat me" cake, only Alice knows
how a young girl grows,
she becomes an object of sexual energy,
and while boys can still play games with their new anatomy,
a girl has to be serious
because the world is full of werewolves to bite into any feminine flesh they can.

The puberty exiles them from sports.
From this brave new world on,
games will be split, male and female
because the growth was a hindrance.

Nubile magazines and mirrors on the net to old age make now a race to find love
or wrinkle and become unwanted.
This "search" for "love" is strangely like "become a better sex object".

And they get played by the rules of another game
that nuances the subject of love for pleasure.

Wearing shorts to cool in front of the sun is not just convenience anymore.
It's sexuality,
and the male cubs stare
at a woman cub only minding her own fair-
ing
as the cake fills in her clothes
and she's hurled into being a subject beyond being human.
She becomes a topic,
and even older men sinfully gaze at her and want to own her
when she's sweeping her hair from her face, so she can see,
not because it's a beautiful gesture.

A girl races against time to be fairer and fairer,
not because she loves her own appearance,
but because these toxic chemicals on her face
anchor in more erotic attention.

Why can't she just be free?

Early, she fell for Disney propaganda
and decided she had to be somethinged
despite the controversy,
despite her own rights.

But love could be.
It could be more than words
if she stopped looking for a hero
and started looking for an object of her own.

There are two ways to have equality.
Either the right allowed to one people is dismissed
or the right is rained like light over the Apache world.

A man is an object.
A woman is an object.
But we can't stop there.

A woman is a being beyond objectification
and so does a man exist beyond utility.

That puberty pastry is gross to the female mind.
It reduces it to a body, love of lust,
but for every cake, there's a potion,
so your liberty doesn't grow away.

"Soon her eye fell upon a little glass box lying underneath the table.
She opened it and found in it a very small cake, on which the words "EAT ME" were beautifully marked in currants."