Her hair neatly tied in a bun
That carries all of her thoughts
Which can’t be bothered with right now
For they scare her more than any shaitan could
She would swallow you alive
Or at least have you believe she could
Her jet back eyes
Dead against the burning light
She smiles, and clinks champagne glasses
Eating mussels and caviar
With the very people she wants to shoot through the heart
She smiles, an untrue smile
The people she believes in
Want to use her gender as a weapon
They don’t believe her to be an equal
Dousing herself in war paint
She cradles her gun like a newborn
And marches onto the streets
Her skirt, resisting the wind’s advances
Her beret is tilted
Saluting the sun in it’s upward march
Her smile is crooked
As she loads a magazine into the gun
She turns corners like she turns
Pages of a book that she’s least
Interested to read
But feels guilty enough to scrape through
She tip toes to the rendezvous point
And snaps her fingers to the
Beat of the song that’s been stuck in
Her head since last summer
She winks at her comrades
As they slowly fill out the space
Between her
And the message she wants to send
To everyone who had her
Figured out to be made of the same
Metal as the ones who had
Come eons before her
Her comrades tie their hair in a bun
And watch her show them three fingers
Two
One
And then.
Then there was no stopping
The volley of bullets
That made concrete walls
Seem paper thin
The roar of the gun
Silencing any and all lies
Spoken by those despicable people
Promising something out of their control
The air is heavy
With powdery fumes
So they toss their arsenal
And chase their way, underground
Filling the streets with their hysterical laughter
