The Source is Screaming

Time collapses

in your absence.

You’re not missed.

It’s what you’ve taken.

⟢

Years float by.

I’m desire-less.

Stuck in time,

weightless and dripping

with demise.

⟢

Thought I could be ready.

Hands are sweaty—

the thought of hands upon me,

Freeze mode activated.

⟢

I stare at the news

in distress.

When will time stop

for good?

⟢

Your cold corpses rot.

We build on top.

Your burial grounds: our plot.

Your voices lost.

Now you’re just like us.

We made you equals—

pay you less,

walk you in stilettos.

⟢

We’ll make lifeless statues

of our past disciples:

Run countries better.

Make cathedrals.

Honor one another.

Mother the world

in ways you couldn’t.

⟢

Create actual connections.

Love and abundance.

⟢

Imagine the world without

lack of accountability

and taken trophies.

⟢

Matriarchal societies.

Goddess of entities.

The way you could never touch

such divinity.

⟢

Know your place

and step aside.

You’ve had all this time

to destroy our lives.

You’ve done a stellar job at it.

⟢

Time to retire.

And let actual greatness

take a stab at it.

---

Tired of women’s bodies being less. Tired of statistics. Tired of hearing every woman I know recall stories where they lost themselves to violence.

We’re expected to recover. Build a home. Raise families. Keep our composure. And not respond viscerally when countless women are abused and violated every day in this country. It’s so incredibly sad and yet predictable. It’s exhausting.

I’m angry. When will we decide this is enough?

---

Petals & Teeth

❤️‍🔥