Poor and pity, somehow fallen
From the purity surrounded
That I meant to mean.

Either sorrow in silence
Or vengeance I must seek
These are the options for recovery
My illegitimate soul weeps.

My heart is stomping, creating storm,
Ghostly fear discovers
A nauseating essence of human form.

Time limit for trauma
Is accepted to cease
In the absence of hurt
Not a minute more, please.

Curtains pulled to cover
The heinous crimes of all
Society’s trauma blindness
Is in woman’s unrecovered core.

Moving stillness in a sitting traffic,
I am speaking
But my lips don’t move at all.