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Her right hand formed like a gun two of the five fingers erect side by side Glued together like lovers who couldn’t quite let go Partners in crime
Her lips dry pale shaking It has told so many lies to survive
Her legs folded neatly like her secrets
Her knees cold and aching
Her hair with waves that remind you of the first time you swam in the ocean tied up like a convict
Her breathing heavier than the weight of her guilt
Her tears raindrops pitter-pattering on your rooftop “Let me in,” it says
Her back bent from all the questions she still hasn’t found the answers to forming a bridge to run away from herself but she always comes back Tired
She loads the gun opens her mouth and pulls the trigger Her throat complains but she thinks it’s better than the guilt of what she’s become Her gun doesn’t kill her It does not make her bleed Instead it makes her spill everything she had the night before and she thinks she’s doing herself a favor
The water running from the faucet muffling the cackling of her demons is her accomplice The clock strikes three.
Her body parts sing her a lullaby “You’re beautiful” “You’re enough” But she only hears the retreating footsteps of the men who never saw her for what she truly is only what they want her to be
I hug her while the setting sun paints our skin gold We hear the breeze whisper “You’re beautiful” “You’re enough” We don’t say a word but I know right then and there she decided to start fighting the monsters back.
June 23, 2017
(Alexandria M. Mordeno is an incoming third year Political Science student at Mindanao State University-Iligan Institute of Technology. She loves Manga and other Japanese stuff.)