There they keep me in the pigsty of patriarchy. And the stinking pong of it has sickened me. I don't belong there, that's a graveyard for femininity. Every day is daunting and nights are unending, my soul being killed over and over again, with their pervy gazes, shrill voices, dirty hands silencing my revolt, muscular bodies violating my chastity. I'm left with only a body, my soul buried in that bog of patriarchy.
And so I have come, to my mother. I'll show her the marks and the scars, I'll show her the burns. I've brought the tiny pieces of my shattered heart for her to see. And I'll beg in front of her for mercy, not to send me back to that swampy land of patriarchy.
So, I must dash. For I've gotten mad. I'll dance along the way, set the storm within me free for the world to see my fury.
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