From Anger to Action: Marching Back Into the Darkness
If only the sternum came equipped with a zipper, stepping out of the red-light district, I would have gladly unzipped my chest and shaken off my skin.
Afraid of the Light: My Girl She Ran
My girl, she ran. A wounded woman-child, more afraid of being loved than used, ran from the light and tried to find her own way in the dark.