I must confess, the position I was in was meant for no woman,
but I allowed a man, a demon, take control of me.
I never knew a man could hate so many, many women,
I never thought I would let a man take control of me.
A man of uncertainty —his true colors have always been wooded.
I was blind to the truth and I allowed his strings take control of me
No one believed that the devil was in him, no one saw how he was inhuman,
but I saw him for how he was. He started to lose control of me.
His anger rose like a steam engine, “**** you, woman!”
My own fight to take control only tightened his urge to take control of me.
You see? He was less than a man, the devil disguised as a churchman,
who prayed to evil to do anything he could to take control of me.
However… he could never break this superwoman,
he is dead in this life and he no longer has strings to take control of me.

raised scars prevent your velvet hands gliding up
thighs that were supposed to be untouched
each mark, each burn--it's all a different story
from when i was young,
you're still beautiful, you whisper
every aged mark tingles
as you kiss me everywhere
reminding me of why i stopped
trying to take away the pain of yesterday.

My mind feels is swirling with embers
as I become witness to what happens in the world.
As a goddess I shouldn't fear the human race—
but because of the way society is now, I've never been:
Afraid.
This fire that feasts on my brain wants to explode.
How can people live with with negativity and hatred?
Just because I have the flower to identify myself as a woman,
men attack me, gawk at me as I am a mouse
and they are the hawk.
As I stand up for my rights, I know that they wish me dead
I hope my embers warm their cold souls
as I write this prose for them.
My hands only seek patience and understanding
to reach out to them to help them understand that:
human rights are meant for all, and if we don’t realize it soon it might be our:
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