Hands tied behind her back.
Society wants to keep her down,
beating her brain with ignorance and burying her in debt.
A fury of thick red, yellow, purple and orange brush strokes surrounds
her signifying the rage building inside.
A salty tear effortlessly slides down her cheek
smudging mascara, like tar, against her milky white skin.
At the bottom of this tomb, she finds solace within herself.
Nothing but her and the moonlight.
Chest thrust forward,
in salutations to the moon.
Eyes closed tightly,
Head pushed back,
Exposing her fragile neck,
though her hands remain bound,
her mind runs free.
Looking back to a time of peace,
she envisions her body
submerged in water.
Sounds drowned by nothingness,
tranquil and alone.
but the world keeps spinning
beneath those crossed legs.
Like vision, orange,
sunlit from behind closed eyes, her center glows with understanding
and burdensome thoughts give way to a meditative state.
Reality is relative, autonomy originates within.
Soft shades of purple and blue fall at her gentle exposeded sides.
White doves surround her
reminding her to let thoughts flow like an ever changing river,
eroding her mind.
Body doubled over, eyes tightly closed,
she focuses on her plight.
The knots come undone,
with hands unseen
and she is free.