i want to be just like every other girl

responding to a slimy message request with a poem about girlhood? in.

Being a person online means that sometimes, if you’re lucky, in between being accosted by people talking about ‘mob wife’ or ‘eclectic grandpa’ aesthetics, you’re hit with the most beautiful thing you’ve heard in your goddamn life. That happened the other day when I scrolled past Jennifer Rockwell, who'd recently received a message request from “a man with a slimy fishing rod” and decided to turn it into a poem.

I first noticed the beautiful words (girlhood, ugh, tick) and then the accent (a kiwi - cool!) and felt strongly that it was something you would all love - so I reached out to see if she’d written it down and if I could share it. She said yes! And that it’s going to feature in her upcoming book with Dead Bird Books soon! If you loved this poem and want to follow the rest of her words, follow her on Instagram and TikTok: @dawnpoems 𓆩♡𓆪

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Every Other Girl 

a message request from a man with a slimy fishing rod:

‘wow. a girl with real interests’

(not referring to my obsession with the bi-bachelorette 

or addiction to TikTok, pinterest boards of glittery makeup looks)

he means what he thinks belongs to men 

like surfing, skating, and the outdoors

I could tell him how much I love girls. how we watch 

‘vogue-get ready with me’ 

dye each other’s hair bottle pink

over the makeup-stained sink, Avril Lavigne blaring 

plait red ribbons into each other’s braids 

do a séance in mum’s basement 

make a shrine, grate claws on rock,  

comb milky hair, dark sea, 

night-embalmed 

dm each other ‘omg you are so beautiful wtf’

& can never gauge if we are flirting or just being friendly

make plans of charging rose quartz and casting hexes 

(always cancel last minute) cos we’re feeling anxious 

or our stomach problems have flared up (again)

never get annoyed

send a million heart emojis 

‘it's okay, I was feeling the same, let's do it soon tho i miss u xx’ 

send TikTok’s across the room 

dissect a screenshot conversation, 

video thrifted clothing hauls, Y2K finds 

recommend dupe highlighters &

how to manipulate, lie, create chaos

grwm as i water my monstera with my period 

share a bucket of chemist warehouse bleach, 

how I get out any blood stain, no matter how big xx

hot-girl-mental-health-walks 

when we were richer, get our nails done @ Lynn mall 

iced caramel pumpkin spice oat milk Frappuccino 

I love girls who bottomless brunch in Ponsonby 

post a dozen selfies, tag fancy brands 

help curate a caption like it's a poem 

I <3 girls with green armpit hair 

so unruly it might choke u!!! x 

shaved heads, kiss each other hard 

in front of the destiny dickheads 

baggy thrifted suits to the ball  

how we take turns holding each other 

when they leave, cos they always leave

& we are there to pick up the pieces 

curled up in our messy, tear-and-tan-stained bed 

blast Lana, do each other’s liner, thick and blue,

drown ourselves in hot pink glitter 

wardrobe heap on the bed 

we take turns trying on

lend each other sparkly booty shorts

YOU LOOK SO HOT OMFG 

delete the photo we just posted 

hysteric, blood-curdling shriek  

when they play OUR song 

clamber on tables, stiletto snapping, 

hold back each other's hair

bite a man (groped us in the mosh) 

tear through his flesh with our jagged teeth 

burn him at the stake, gone-girl his ass 

in our crazy, psycho-bitch-era, 

feral feminine, femme-fatale 

(no more cool-girl pretty-girl rage)  

kicked out the bar, ??? 

so we sit on the curb drinking $9 cleanskin wine 

laugh so hard we might actually die this time 

I love Phoebe-Mitski-BoyGenius-sad-girls 

cute heart chokers and huge, fake gold hoops 

how we cram in the poorly lit club bathroom 

give strangers spare tampons & paw paw  

fixing some girl's eye makeup I just met 

(she’s crying over a samba-wearing boy) 

more girls have come in, we’re drunkenly consoling her 

some of the best friends I ever had were strangers in the 

club bathrooms, chunky docs sticking to the tacky floor 

unpacking trauma under flickering fluro bulbs  

how we have all been assaulted

…never a surprise

how we talk about it like it's just a given 

just girly things

guide each other through panic attacks

encourage each other to eat another serving 

believe each other the first time

so don't tell me I'm not like other girls 

cos I love girls, I love girls, I love girls 

& I want to be just like every other girl.

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Jennifer Rockwell (she/her) is a writer based in Tāmaki Makaurau who writes about girlhood, queerness and grit. Her work has been published in The Poetry New Zealand Yearbook, VICE, Rapture: Aotearoa’s Performance Poetry Anthology, Symposia, and 'Aotearoa, English for Schools.’ She has represented Aotearoa in international poetry competitions, and won a number of poetry awards. Her debut poetry collection with Dead Bird Books is coming early 2024. Her work can be found on her Instagram and TikTok: @dawnpoems.