A combination and reworking of two of my poems related to one issue.


Unnamed

I don’t think
it’s only “some men”
women worry about.

Not anymore.

Their crimes are exposed
on repeat,
each week a new boulder
on the pile
with us at the bottom,
the weight of it
felt
as anger fused with sorrow
as fear fused with empathy
as they use our bodies
and brag to eyes
that see but hearts
that feel nothing
but pride.

Shame is like a silencer
on a gun fired,
the fear, the anger, the shame
all discharged,
but the damaging bullet
from the weapon
used against us -
unnamed.

One in three
does not include
the unreported,
the ones who whisper
into the night
questioning every moment -
especially the before -
a twisted barrel
marking us as damaged.

A wound healed
covers a lasting scar,
echoes of memories
penetrate as flashbacks.

Not all guns
are the problem -
just the ones used
as weapons.



Poetry by Melinda K Zarate The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 28 times
Written on 2026-04-23 at 21:31

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text