Our Blood Into Ink

I reject stifling silence

I will speak truth unflinching

I refuse to smile through gritted teeth

during the rewriting of my history

into a palatable bedtime story for others’ comfort

I will not be polite

or grateful for crumbs

and patronizing pats on the head

I have no use for your pity

Instead, I will join hands with my sisters and brothers

Warriors all

and we shall tell our tales of survival

Rich iron blood shall turn into ink

in fountain pens held in our resolved hands

and will flow across pages

blaze brightly in the night sky




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