#TheStruggleIsReal

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Eun Ji, do you remember me?
I was the one that heard thunder
When you most wanted storms
We’ve always been about burning stars

Our letters were unearthly and radiant
And we took all our cowardice
And wrote it down for all the women
Who never dared to speak their minds

We were, feminists before poets
And for the festival of the dead
We rot their sacrifice in our rituals
And if all is looted, betrayed, sold again

Our words will flash with the wings
Of black deaths, brief plagues
And all that was once glorious
Will be glorious again, aloof with

The smell of honey, I’ll be the one
Walking you to reincarnation
I know you know this, that when
The dust of freedom settles

We’ll be the gold smell of the
Mouth of sunlight, when the
Future ripens suddenly, in a terrible
Festival of dead leaves and brief realizations
We were made for this #TheStruggleIsReal

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4 thoughts on “#TheStruggleIsReal

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