So many uncomfortable feelings — Melita White

So many uncomfortable feelings
What shall I do with them?
This one I’ll avoid, catch a bullet train away from
This one I’ll shove in a drawer, tightly, amongst my worn-out knickers
This one I’ll stuff down my throat, with a cinnamon bun to chase it
This one I’ll hide up a tree for later, amongst the ripening fruit

by FeministConfessional

I was a mountain by Melita White

One day, when I was six, I became a mountain
It was the day I yelled and screamed with righteousness into thick air, the air my only witness, while I sat on my bed’s soft bedrock
And with my pillow I swiped at that air, at the bed, at the enemy sitting next to me — her name was Injustice
And the rage burst out like lava from a fissure that needed so much to crack open and Injustice was afraid of me and though the lesson did not teach her anything I learnt there was power in my truth and in my anger
I was a mountain

by FeministConfessional