fatpanda

India

does the blood of my ancestors make me stronger or does it weaken me?

June 29, 2020

FREE WRITING

12
streetlight wisps poke hunger into her skin; she is

etched into the corners she wasn’t allowed to wear 
a skirt in, bloodied even as two years of textbooks 

rot under her brother’s feet. & yes, she dreams in 

analogous shades of gold, but her eyes color 
everything pale blue-- unbridled locks stroking 

freedom across the sky, nails where dust knew not 

how to play; resonation when the national anthem
broke in half on the hood of a stolen car. she 

whispers symphonies to the plants at the garden,

buries a twined ring in unspoken memory of a man
who promised only to help. she lies upon a marble 

bed, she knows what life is and she knows that 

each time she breathes, it is only a half-truth 
that is being exhaled. the rust that has settled

down in her veins beseeches her. she thunders

a place for herself in the discrowned desert, 
wonders when the parade will come to cheer her

on. life is beat-down and she is withered, but still

chin up, girl.
millions of girls in india don't get secondary education/are not allowed to finish high school

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  • June 29, 2020 - 10:45pm (Now Viewing)

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5 Comments
  • Sol noctis

    The message was loud and clear... Great job!!!!!!!!


    5 months ago
  • Eblinn

    Such a strong, beautiful piece. This is incredible!


    5 months ago
  • black_and_red_ink

    The title really caught my eye. Beautiful piece. Wonderful imagery. And a powerful and important message.


    5 months ago
  • amaryllis

    i'll come back to properly comment on the epicness of this piece, but this is gorgeous!


    5 months ago