here I’ll stand, hands perched on my waist, waiting
on you to stand up,
bombs on one hand, mace on the other;

swing it here,
bang it there,
feel the shatter, the crack, the opening of shut down wounds,

feel the implosion,
the walls and floor colliding into one another and out into the world.

you’ll be a tremor, but it took you long enough.
you’ll be an earthquake, and they should notice this time.


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