killing boys | 1.1

002; odes to demolition & ruin

i am woman. frail, dainty, weak.
i am woman. mother, daughter, sister.
i am woman. frail, dainty, weak.
how would it feel like to be angry? i
think i know my anger, but my anger
knows no bounds.

I AM ANGRY! : AN ODE TO SELF DESTRUCTION AND DEMOLITION AND DEATH
and i love the way my fire burns everything i touch. the flames swallow your skin, it's acid tendencies crackling like a spark in the dead of the night. my veins are hot, fury builds in my bones. what do i do ? since the day i was born i have been angry at the world; been told to shh, be quiet...but, the boys grew up, and the grown-ups still tell me to shut up shut up shut up. i have been angry at the world since times immemorial. ensemble of our heartbeats matched my furious breaths. you're just a woman they tell me again. frail, dainty, weak. mother, daughter, sister. but oh, have you ever stopped to think : our mighty ships ( as you sailor men once called us ) are women, storms are women ( turning over your houses, fury ), galaxies are women ( how are you doing, andromeda? ), our weapons are women and so are our battleships, ( she is going to ruin the enemy ) but despite all that, what of the actual women? i am angry. BUT : where do i put it? what do i do with all the rage? ( i was never allowed to let out )
I AM ANGRY! : AN ODE TO YOUR RUIN.

───

27/01/2022

i don't know how to feel about this