Updated: Jun 20

these days I look out the window

& see the shapes in clouds censor

the light beginning to skew

one storm could flood all we've fought for

the version of us in patriarchy's mirror reflects back at you

but wishful thinking means we keep our mouths open

rusting jaws they labelled as venus flytraps

growing despite the abundance of rain

finding shelter in

smoke lined cells that aren't yet a cage

we bite through the bars and make our faces the page

we dig up the identities that so often are erased

buried alive under ancient blood

turned into two-dimensional hashtags

dragged through the mud

the blame put on our eroded selves

asking why couldn't you have just stayed home?

as if we could predict the weather outside

as if no tears are shed in the presence of those

we're supposed to trust most

because safety will wither

in never-ending nightshade

& trying to excuse the power their poison holds

only strengthens

the common ground

between fear and our fate

our faith

in graves

& sunlight's synonym

being shame

30 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All