natasha romanoff.

god, you wish 
that your definition wouldn't always be "woman"

because you're a fighter first 
and a person second 

hair spilling red like fire over your shoulders
you weren't surprised when you found out that everyone you listen to is evil

your parents gone and nick fury dead for a little while 
barton taken and coulson dead for a little while too 
(when did this become a trend, you think to yourself)
all your handlers bad bad bad 
and barnes a shell of what you lived through

you were strong enough to take it 
and that has influenced every moment of your life from the red room on 

romanova, romanov, romanoff
even your name, natalia, has been stripped from you

when barton brought you in, 
death sentence hanging above your head, suspended 

you found something akin to a fragile, fracturing home

lost souls made for killing turned into a bare resemblance of heroes 

and you don't know, really. 
you just don't. 
you're so tired, of all the blood staining your hands 
of the misogyny and the corruption 

and for once in your life, 
you think not only do you not deserve the world 

but the world doesn't deserve you.

The End

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