She writes…
For blood
For tears that spilled at taunts and invitations that never came
For the times tongues whipped their harshness across her back
She writes for the times she tried to walk away
To close her ears to words that burned themselves into her brain and her memories
She writes to speak
To move with the drums that seem to fit themselves into her speech
Irregular rhythms she speaks
And speaks
And mumbles to herself and anyone who will listen
Reaches for those who will simply touch her…
Without hurting her
Who love her…
More than she can love herself…

She sings…
Sings for nights she lies awake
Unsure what her future holds
What is waiting around the corner
Unclear of whether it will pounce upon her and rip to shreds 
her carefully constructed walls just to add another brick to them
…sings to release the broken notes that were once beautiful
which now scratch her throat
and make her loose her voice
she sings as a caged bird
flapping her wings effortlessly against the metal bars…

She dances…
Dances to forget the worries that make her eyes sweat tears
To forget the reasons she grinds her body against waiting masculinity
Dances to feel a woman
…in dark spaces in which for brief flashes she is the light
and the truth to lustful followers
and the beacon they are drawn to
she dances…
to he melodies and cadences of fancy footwork
to disguise what really is
she dances not to walk her own path…