And so we'll bleed:
Through shin bones,
And fingertips.
Through our female eyes,
And particular thighs.

We'll scream and stay put,
But avoid stillness at all costs.
This is ground control
To The Marginalized,
Here to force a few things clear.

Your shock treatments
Will not drown out the
Footsteps. Inching closer and
Closer to that white front door.
And all that false feminism does

Is boil my ******* blood.

And my friend has three degrees.
With a rising temperature he says,
"Cheers to rebuilding!"
And we laugh.
And we cry.