First Bra

Dear first bra,
You were white with pink lace
Hanging on a clothes rack
Embarrassment without a face
My mum dragging me past the clothes stack

Dear first bra,
You painted an incomplete painting of my complete life
You made me the blistering summer following a silent spring
The stormy winter following the spiralling autumn
The raging, roaring bushfire following a soft wind

Dear first bra,
Wearing you was like jumping off a bridge
With a loose rope tied to my feet
It felt like swimming when I was meant to float
While I was still sitting in my front-row seat

Dear first bra,
Were you like this for every girl?
Were you always this emotional?
For Belle, Cinderella and Rapunzel too?
Were you truly this compelling, yet this conventional?