after the storm

when the storm came it came with spitting bitter winds and acrid rain in torrents. a reckless force of masculinity insensitivity he stormed upon the girl with the glowing long hair. summoning endless hurt and blinding sleet and knives of blunt misogyny. lies and fake apology. she ran for cover, beneath broad leaves and fronded trees, she braced herself against the pounding. quietly she wept for fear of making any noise, so used to making herself the tiniest wisp of bordering on nonexistent intermittently pinching her skin just to make sure she still existed. a wisp was all he wanted so she could never fight against him. but who had any right to define her? in a moment of hidden strength as the world and the storm were beating down upon her, the slain became the slayer and she was a dragon glistening in her own blood. lightning then thunder, she struck down the thunder and snatched the lightning in one swift leap through the air. her claws were made for slashing and she cut through that sky and scared the rain back into its clouds for he knew not the power she had had all along. he could never see the strength behind the visible cusp of her beauty, a beauty that came from the sturdy bones and sinewy muscles and sprinting heart that propelled her into this world and kept her alive and breathing. from the words and the weight of the women in her life who had survived to tell her she deserved better. her scales gleaming like armor she came down to the earth and stared into the sky with such ferocity and bare unmasked exultation as to turn the gray away, clouds scattering. the sun felt good on her tired face and bruised body and she laid down to finally sleep, at peace with herself, the world.