Isabella Santoro
Photography Editor
“Why didn’t you fight back?”
Are my hands not balled into fists
Do you not see the hard set of my mouth
Have you not been aware of the fire inside
That grips tight and wraps around his throat
No words escaping those haunted lips
His eyes sheer terror hidden with a failing smile
Where are you as I scream murder
Do you fail to see the knives in my frown
As I take his hands and slash them red
Words as the point that rips into his skin
Vengeance has been born in my eyes
A heart that takes no scorn by way of man
My smile as the sweetest form of revenge
At least in my own mind I was so vicious
A vivid imagination only runs so deep
Even when my frozen hands were stuck in place
And my voice icy with too much fear to speak
I fight back with a projection of rhymes on a page
My words pack a punch to his gut
You didn’t think I’d stay silent…..
“Did you?”