Good girls

for Ana

They always go for the good

girl. You know, the one

who never laughs

too loud or curses at all,

who remains in her seat

even when the teacher steps

out, who dutifully takes down

whatever is written 

on the board even without

understanding what it means.

Like the plague or some other

pestilence, they come in seasons.

You are now fifteen. This is your first.

They will smother you with

flattery. They will tell you

that you are mature

for your age, that you are refreshing

to talk to, that they connect with you

in a way that they haven’t with women

their own age. They will chain you

to the idea that you are special,

that you are unlike so many other girls.

And the good girl who was raised

to please and to do as she’s told

never had a chance

to learn that being a good girl attracts

predators as much as praise.