The vibrations rattle my bones and like a seismic shift I can feel everything unfolding.

Centuries deep these wounds are flushed with blood thick and poisoned for far too long. My grandmothers, great grandmothers, great great grandmothers, great great great grandmothers, and beyond - they surround me now.

I’m bearing witness to the break down. I’m begging for it. Implode. Kick me. Harder. Spit on my spirit and shake me up. Rip everything out of me. Do it. Do it.

I’m summoning the fear that’s strangled our spirit for far too long. I’m bending the grip and staring into it, dead on. Roaring, try me. Crying, try harder.

For the voices lodged in the back of throats beyond their last breath. For the lives less-lived on hillsides in the hushed walls of old cobblestone lined farmhouses. For every woman whose heart my blood ran through, this is for you. This is for us.

All the births before mine aligned for this. The fear of fear ends with me.

woman on motorcycle in the woods