Imperfect Loud Stands

The day we choose to speak, fate had another story to tell.

Dated by our feelings, that had us chasing our tail.

But this was more than a ghost tale

We only spoke about when nothing was there to tell.

So! In the quietness of time.

We had our placards held in hand

Marching out thoughts of hate

Out of misunderstood headquarters

Tamed to speak louder of the beliefs,

behind the word feminism.

Young to advocate for a breakdown of fame.

We scatter our feet on pavement thorns,

Hands bound on silent screams.

Bending the world out of touch with reality

Becoming the very monster,

We choose to lie to grapple with.

But this was just time for another illusion grandstand.

Thiébaud Faix

Ghost

Clipping actions! Ms. Nobody felt time in absence, filtering in the cold night on a loop. Damaged reminisced reflections tricked her soul to unbundle her dignity. 

At the hand of a monster deemed family. She knew not the words to say but to ask for forgiveness from her past self. With no words to best describe the coldness of the twilight drama duct taped in the silence of the moon. Pounded with the vow of secrecy, as no one stood to believe her truth.

She had always been a rebellious child known for her candid antics. However, on this very occasion, it wasn't about the gags but innocent blood drips. Called to survivor in shame of having not but in need. Bedsheets rigged of the pledge-ful moans that were actually screaming for help.

Photo by Rick Han