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By Gia Grillo From Issue No. 7

my heart riots violence

defies silence

i survive i

by the thick of my eyeliner

though the makeup still stings and my bee lips still hiss

and theirs piss in my veins

my heart speaks in caterwaul cattle call to all

pinning hopes to the wall of their skin closing sin in my hand like a bird claustrophobic and crowded

in a room full of bodies

each head bobbing

i scream fountains of sound

every boot on the ground

every fist

in every throat

every constant and every erratic drives the nail home

and my moan is a siren song

and my scream is a birth

and my pulse is the devil incarnate and here

packaged in a grrl

with a ribbon of anger

tight as my grip

i gift to you

pure hell on earth

About Gia Grillo More From Issue No. 7