words to heal a broken world
As the train car rocks gently side-to-side, I fight the gravity that weighs on my eyelids. The weather is unusually bearable for early April, and the warmth of the sun seeps through the windows like a sedative. To my left, I see my husband’s head …
When I said no and you heard yes, I watched you wet your fingers and smother the flame. Did it burn your hand like it left me cold?
I was taught to walk home
With my keys between my fingers
Defense should a male’s gaze linger
Too long upon my back, my limbs, my chest
I often wonder if I could
Claw at his skin if he tried
To paw within the spaces
Of me that are mine
As I traverse city streets,
I repeat in my mind
Today will not be the day
You discover
if you can make
a man blind
