Power is power and even
In dreams I run from myself
Trying to break hands, the
Steel of guns, the broken smiles
Of thwarted masculinity and
Proverbial maidens who hide behind
Crones and closed doors in
Office buildings. Some of us have
Screamed for help but no one
Came, so we panic in paralysis.
Never learning how to move,
How to speak again, just
Crouching, hiding, avoiding until
We cannot be seen, until
Camouflage becomes a remedy.

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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