4/26/2023

Why is the narrative about what men have done to me? My name echoes down the hallway. The intensity comes back with such force it squeezes the air out of my body. I’m flooded. All over again. This isn’t love. I’m on fire. They tie me down and burn me at the stake. My skin parts and I’m exposed.

This isn’t love.

They take me in. Like vultures, I’m worth more dead. Empty, hollow. Piece by piece. They swarm me. Nothings left. Nothing.