A poem by Caitlin Thomson on the striking power of the survivor when bringing their abuser to justice. For Issue #19 ‘Secrets’.
Dedicated to Mimi Haleyi and Jessica Mann after the conviction of Harvey Weinstein in New York. And to the eighty other women who spoke out alongside them.
A dull ache leaps up her legs. Cross-legged, an ancient goddess of
retribution, incarnate in a scarred and imperfect flesh.
Pins and needles writhe in her supple feet, and flit across her mind’s
thoughts of justice. Forms of torture and medicine. They need both.
Electricity sparks across her fingertips,
They twist and turn, creating the appearance of a cage.
She’s locking up all who have layed a hand on her.
She sharpens her nails, blades glittering in the new dawn.
Lowered eyes flash beneath a blonde fringe, she’s boiling over
Hot water splashes her yellow jumpsuit.
Her palm slams onto the wood-panelled witness stand, leaving
scorch marks from a rogue lightening bolt.
A high-pitched scream echoes in the forest air; run, run, as fast as you can,
she’s coming for you, man.
Illustrated by Eliot Lambert.