She sat with a pen,
Thousand words flew her loud mind,
They screamed speak up,
“But where and how?” She asked.
“In that note book
Write each day,
The untold story,” the words replied.
“I will not, they are mine,
The world will shake if I write,
I got to live, you know?
My words might quash them all,” she said
“So speak up,” the words laughed –
She wrote about them all,
She wrote about that imposter
Whom she trusted.
That Tartuffe who pressed her breasts when she asked for help.
It was on a bridge, where she stood,
That charlatan groped her and fled like a coward.
“Show your guts predator, come face me,” she howled in pain.
It was for that hoaxer she decided to fight with words,
The words spilled when she took her pen.
She has one life, just one.
She knew she needs to run like a fire.
She ran so were her words,
For she is an unapologetic storyteller.