I cupped the depth of your screams in the palms of my hands

I cupped the depth of your screams in the palms of my hands
brewed it in my chest in the embers from all our fires
burnt out, reignited to an inferno spreading  to my legs and hands

thus armed I sought out the source of your fear
etching at the pavement with my heels
a warrior charging at your foe
in the grip of a power pounding like a warbeat

and he cowered

i held the line as threads of whispers from past battles hung on my shoulders
in white and black, bones and lace, funeral wear made of
pain and sobs and agonizing nights lying in a neverending, lonely wake
that my loved ones have suffered, and i was never there to fight

the fury of billions of women anyone can summon
yet it was only me that chose to answer the call that night
that night he thought he could outrun the echoes of your screams

the anguish in your eyes as you came to meet again the man
  who came into the women's bathroom
  who touched you without your consent, or familiarity,
  who thought he could walk away with a shrug of fake innocence
i'll never forget

all the women trapped like you were

Author's Note

It's about time I started posting again. Here's a poem based on my experience with a woman screaming in a public bathroom and chasing down the man who fled the scene until cops arrived. I was ready to make a citizen's arrest! 💪