teach me to cross, blanket, slip
the shackles of society,
to pedal, tread, needle prick
and guide me to unpick,
thread, stitch, sew the fabric
of my soul—the torn canvas,
colourless and slipping at the seams
giving way to tattered screams
pull and pierce jagged edges
loop the forward-back-forward-back—
reverse the damage? hide the damage
because now I can manage
the patriarchy and collect
broken, bruised, battered memories,
a sequence of bright crosses
to mark the unlit losses