all the men in the world, they've sucked the lifesoul out of me.
drained me out in red rivulets, spreadeagled i give birth to my pain
and my anguish; my emotional burden of
carrying unfinished boys on my shoulders and giving shelter
to their excuses, their lies, broken half-finished promises,
disappearances becauses they can't shoulder too many
burdens of their own.
i may be a cowering shipwreck but
there's old treasures buried in me still,
glinting in sunbeams when i smile,
fake or otherwise; i can bring
nations down to their feet when as a mother, as a lover
then can i not
bring you down to your
knees?

or
make you rise
from your own ashes?
do not question my strength
i may be perfectly still but i'm only
quietly gathering strength to

ignite.