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bookishwenchWritten for havisham, Yuletide Madness 2020
The Women Speak
We have always been here, behind the wallpaper.
Most do not see us, and that is the way we want it.
When they do, their reactions are not usually pleasant.
Some of them want to erase us,
Use a Pink Pearl between the patterns
And leave the wall clean.
They try in vain.
We cannot be erased.
Others laugh at us.
We are not to be laughed at.
We hold truth,
And when truth becomes laughable,
The world cracks in half.
A few ask us our names.
We lost those long ago
If we ever really had them.
Instead, we are Anonymous
And our numbers are legion.
This one tried to free us.
It happens, but rarely.
She saw us, creeping,
Slipping between the lines,
And she wanted us out.
The seismic shift of the world folds like a paper airplane
Made from the pages of a book.
It swallowed her whole.
She has always been here, behind the wallpaper.
We have always been here, behind the wallpaper.
Most do not see us, and that is the way we want it.
When they do, their reactions are not usually pleasant.
Some of them want to erase us,
Use a Pink Pearl between the patterns
And leave the wall clean.
They try in vain.
We cannot be erased.
Others laugh at us.
We are not to be laughed at.
We hold truth,
And when truth becomes laughable,
The world cracks in half.
A few ask us our names.
We lost those long ago
If we ever really had them.
Instead, we are Anonymous
And our numbers are legion.
This one tried to free us.
It happens, but rarely.
She saw us, creeping,
Slipping between the lines,
And she wanted us out.
The seismic shift of the world folds like a paper airplane
Made from the pages of a book.
It swallowed her whole.
She has always been here, behind the wallpaper.
