She's tired of being stepped on,
doormat woman,
so she took her pen
and her hands
and her heart
and put all that shit on a page
far away from men
with wooden stakes
and torches and
without a single shred of taste.
YOU ARE READING
The Empress Rises
PoetryYou broke me before you even knew what it meant to break, stood back & watched me go up in flames. Don't mourn for long; you'll need your legs when I rise from the devastation you laid.
