heart says:
this is good
will heal wounds
subconscious drives heart
subterranean rumbles
seemingly seamless with self
fuels ecstasy
fired by heart
which always agrees
always says
yes please
i am flying
and i want
more
Author: FeministConfessional
Writer of poems, opinion pieces, essays and stories with a feminist leaning. Spoken word artist. Composer, feminist and feminist composer. Musician and ex-academic. Synaesthete and all round creatrix. YouTube channel: Feminist Confessional https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6zJAi-QLlKlvnGqCJlhVDA/
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
Predator by Melita White
A smile that’s too large
A look in the eye
Too intense, unblinking
The predator spots his prey
You