tyrants

whore

courage is the woman who tears through darkness by the skin of her teeth. with carmine skin and cheeks slick with blood, spitting venom with every breath. every beat. courage is the woman who wears her velvet hair in vipers. painting her fingers viridian green. courage is the woman who fights with the swell of her breast. runs with the curve of her hips
strength is the woman who chafes at her feet until they bleed. the woman from whose palms spring callouses wild and free. strength is the woman who sets her eyes on fire. the woman who glows and glitters in the spirit of all her ire. grief is the woman who finds her throat swollen shut. the woman who has young naïve slits in her swan neck. grief is the woman who has age worn into her face, the woman who has wind cut into her lips. beauty is the woman who clasps her child tenderly to her chest, the woman who fills her lungs with kindness. beauty is the woman whose smile knows mercy, the woman whose shoulders atlas envies...