girls in the bathroom, summoning satan. drawing pentagrams with that lipstick we always seem to be carrying around but never using. eating a man’s heart while we talk about how cute your dress is. yes you’re tall but don’t feel bad, sugar, we’ll make space in the spell for all our sisters. adjust each other’s bangs over cauldrons, comment on how the fumes are good for pores and bubbling is a good white noise to fall asleep to. drunk off of those secret flasks that can hide on your thigh, talking about which poison is the right one to murder him by. no, don’t let anyone tell you you’re not a real woman, real women are those who know eldritch horrors and don’t flinch and maybe kissed one (it still counts if it’s just cheek). real women know how to use holly to bind someone to a curse. when we open our mouths a howl comes out. there are teeth that extend too far. fixing our makeup and then immediately cursing the president. that kind of thing, you know, the usual.
Instead of blamecalling people for not voting for Clinton please figure out why this happened