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Home » Poetry » Issue 1 » Through the storm

Through the storm

My feet rush on the surface of the wind
Life never meant so much to me
Until I realized it was about to end

The dawn in time
Loud wailing sounds like a siren
A fire arm cocked and shot
Into the midnight sun
My skin stretching from the waves of the dead
Begged to stop competing

Dragging my lifelessness to 925
Demanded work to be seen
Washing his money clean
Though we did our work
Dirty and clean

I desired to be seen through my sweat
I placed myself
In the space desired to be
Vulnerable we
I knew the sin
I could never wash my soul of it
New shoes and new skirts
That showed more thighs
Devouring empty promises of promotion

Day dreams of houses, cars and generational wealth
In that very moment health
Mental or framed in the vessels of my body
Was not a care
The beauty of my scars
Was the spirit of clarity

Night terrors of what life really was
Dawn after dust
I was the source
The awaken spirit to realize
That fight after fight internal
My soul cried after my values and morals
Lost in day dreams
And alive in night demons

Fit for cinema
The sun pierced through my eyes
As if the blind could see
Reading the pages of her story
My skin quivered at the blunt knife
It pierced my heart that day

Still within the fear
Anonymously, he was arrested
Attested for his sins
And ours under his command
As the evil within the good
More women were saved from his evil hand