She’s Tough As Nails

She goes to those places on purpose and she shines. she speaks. she lets a smirk grow across her face because she knows they are powerless against her.

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she’s tough as nails

and unafraid of dark men that slink through streets at night looking for a moment to invoke fear

or a dollar

or a victim.

she goes to those places on purpose

and she shines.

she speaks.

she lets a smirk grow across her face

because she knows they are powerless against her.

the darkness

and the lust.

greed.

and pain. //

museums full of sick stories and sicker contraptions

and unimaginable acts happening on smokey streets before her eyes

burning.

and she’s burning.

all of it—it breaks her

in a way that only makes her stronger

and softer, too.

and angry at pain with no purpose.

head held high and shoulders pressed back

fingers clutched around the delicate power that propels her feet

shuffling

and she knows Where this power comes from

and where she’s going

and she reaches out these same fingers to pull anyone –

the sick and the hateful and those that think they’re doing fine and the ones too broken to stand.

so they lay in these burning doorways.

she clutches them, too. //

 

for Chanri.

 

Written by Madeline Wike

Featured Image By Jordan Whitt

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