The form of Female rage

We hide in the shadows. We keep our cards close to our chests and whisper in darkened corners until the blood drips from our lips as the venom drips on our enemies faces. We leave no survivors- only skeletons with their hands outstretched.

A think piece, if you will. Thoughts daunting and daring and awful and real. For the erasure of female passion, of autistic tenacity, of beauty in the fingertips of any man, woman, or child.

This is a work in progress, an experiment to get a taste for what this could possibly turn in to, if my skills should receive any praise at all