I am just another casualty
Of a culture
Who does not care who is destroyed
Because “boys will be boys”
I am just another cry in the night
Unseen, unheard
Invisible.
Welcome to being a woman, my grandmother said
As I sit
In the desolate cold of the police station
Hands curling into fists
But I cannot speak
My tongue heavy under the weight of my shame
My anger is righteous, it flows through my veins
Echoing the anger felt by so many before me