Can She Show Strength?
She wishes colours would surround her
She wishes they would blend in and create a whirlwind
To paint her body, to cover the scars, the bruises,
And the war wounds.
All she sees is grey skies and pills
To numb her whimsical ways
She feels nothing, she’s empty,
And disillusioned by a world weighed down
By strong men with ties and wicked hearts.
At one moment she thought she was saved
By angels through the phone
They told her to live and cherish the days
All she could do was release her rage.
She hung up on them
Stricken by fear and a torrent of negative thoughts
She can’t think smoothly or logically
Death is sharpening its tools to capture
Can she begin to open the rest of her mind?
Can she show strength?
These desperate times are magnanimous.
She’s on the road outside of her apartment block
Counting every crack, every weed, every piece of broken glass,
To find meaning amongst the decay.
The cars go by swiftly
Beams of light interlock with the darkness
To create a stubborn clash
She walking towards the glint
She welcomes it and wants it to soak
Into her pores.
And in this moment
She feels alive and all those
Sharp memories that have haunted her
Have faded for now.
This Is Courage.
She mends her dress for doomsday
Rage burns inside of her eyes
She strides through the small hours
Dancing in the dark
And drinking wine for the estranged.
She has no sympathy for the devils
Of the night
She plays a symphony for the rebels
Who fight onslaughts bigger than them
This is courage.
She powders her face for war
Inside this catacomb she calls home
Underneath the darkened streets
It isn’t paradise
It’s a place that holds fundamentals and mirrors
Which crave to tell tales through wrinkled faces.