Edge of Survival
My soul breeches the edge of survival-
primal passion threatens to
take her prey without mercy –
Without care for those
watching
pointing
staring
judging
Instincts- a hybrid of mind & emotion-
tell me this is the only way to really live.
To not allow my soul to be crushed
by the patriarchal corner stone.
Crouching, contemplating, cunning-
I wait for my moment, for the unexpected kill.
For the moment I will teach my daughters
that our hunger can be fed — if we
dream
grow
challenge
and risk stepping out of hiding
to take what is ours…
To nourish our bodies & our souls.
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*breaches