i hold my keys in between my pointer and middle finger
because i'm scared of walking alone
and i know people linger
in the cracks and alleys beside the road.
i hold my hands together in prayer
as a muscular white man walks behind me.
i'm scared of him, of her, of them.
i only wish to feel free.
feel free from the feeling of fear,
the feeling of worry,
feel free from intoxicated men who have drunk too much beer.
but i can't be free.
i cant be free until women stop going missing
until women stop being assaulted
and other crimes the police are dismissing.
i cant be free,
until i am safe.
Thursday 17th December 2020
YOU ARE READING
Sticks 'n' stones
Poetryjust some venty...poems? if you can even call them that. (Mentions of self harm, suicide and other mature topics) Started- Tuesday 5th May 2020
