Immaculate, gentle as can be—
glowing with every smile,
untroubled and content.
But voices of failure coerced her
to need more than what she has,
with her having none
of what she always wanted.
She struggled to continue her path,
crawling through the eye of the needle,
only to end up offering flesh
to give pleasure to all.
Every evening, she collects men
for gold, to pay for the soul she’s losing.
Every evening dying,
screeching in agony, yearning freedom
from the collars around her
neck, tied by men.
She glows through the night,
dancing for those who thirst.
Every mouthful of tonic
downed to remove the taste
of misogyny and toxicity.
Her circling path,
trapped her in an endless need
while blindly striving for better life;
alive but living for nothing,
further spiraling into man’s arms—
a never-ending suicide.
Story