Damsels

Kneel in submission
or don’t.
Some wounds are
too deep, so we hold on,
clinging to pasts that
no longer serve,
except when they do.

Damsels not so distressed,
but so stressed they lean in.
Fleeting moments
passively infiltrating
thoughts, inching and etching
purposely on purpose,
twisting visions of
a white knight
laying his jacket across
puddles
of fear and insecurity.
She forgets the power
to just leap.