The Feminist political prisoner feels her ragged frayed pants falling down, as she pulls in her gut, from the brutal pounding at the hands of the Junta Colonel. The wind is knocked out of her. She would be ready to surrender if she could only speak...
When the knock came at the door, you knew to head to your room. You spared one last glance back at your mom as she welcomed your bully into the living room, thanked him for bullying her "wimp son", and got down on her knees
