Her Power

Her here isn’t now her life isn’t proud the familiar words he speaks, pay restitution to her soul, his control is her power, a responsibility of hers alone, she speaks with conviction, to the whites inside his eyes, soft and subtle gestures a calming in the room, snatching at the stars, aiming for brighter lights, with her feet stuck on the ground, if only soles could speak, her feet would write a novel of the places she ain’t been, voices in her head tell her she’s doing well, comfortability is a burden that entraps her in his hell, bursting out behavior a savior in her doing, believing in herself is a choice that she ain’t choosing, if art is in the losing she’s a Rembrandt by design, not so many people know failure of her kind, emotions hide her well, gifts of creation that only time will tell.