A snake?

It’s tail rattles.

Here come the inner battles.

Is this one poisonous?

Running from my voicelessness.

It’s not all of them.

From where does this hatred stem.

Green scales and a cold stare.

A flicker in the stagnant air.

I step into the green.

Why does it cut, unseen?

One wrong move.

It’ll bite just to prove.

Slow and steady.

Slithering, coming at me already.

I try to stand strong.

Sharp fangs to show where I belong

Its skin begins to shed.

Stomach sinking with familiar dread.

It isn’t a snake I’m trying to escape,

But a woman’s history built to a violent tape.

(Happy) women’s history month.