Opening herself ...
Vulnerable as prey.
She is the white of night, black as darkness in the day.
Her lips the prison gates to her truth ...
For fear that they won't stay.
Constant thoughts, whispers, and fear-
She is the prey.
If she takes more pain she won't feel the rush.
Yearning;
In need, but closed off to the touch .
She is the damaged darkness only poets speak about.
Bleeding in black ink, but rarely "red" about.
Resistance as the victim , but feminist she won't dare.
Her eyes remain closed as the assailants stare.
The words cut.
She is hurt, but doesn't bleed.
They come as close to pounce, but on the victim they can't feed.
