HER STRUGGLE PRINTS

She spends every phase of her life, stitching her loud painful memories into a fabric to clothe her,

Strangling her developed hate with her smile,

Every thought of her existence sipping pain down her soul,

Disgust displaying it’s self on her tainted mind,

Flashes of her struggle pushing down boiling tears

And as they land on her cold cheeks….she feels the slice again

She feels culture journeying itself between her thighs,

Burning her innocence,

Erupting from her purity,

Hailing to her womanhood

While she sobbed in pain.

Wrapped herself in shame

Giving in to the deadly demons,

Coldness seeking solace on her empty skin,

Aching for her freedom.

Calling out to the beauty of amnesia to spread its roots on the palms of her mind.

Her empowered fears paying her a never ending visit,

Cursing at the unfairness and cruelty buried deep in this world,

Nightmares and what ifs popping out the virginity of her mind.

She feels crippled and defeated,

Torn and cheated,

Lost and broken

But none of this matters for a woman has been finally forced out of her.

Forced into the chains of patriarchy,

Piercing down her heart the feeling of inferiority

Of serving another soul, be his bundle of joy.

Through her brokenness a slave to commands,

Spreading her thighs, the door way to her pain

For his satisfaction.

Uncovering her deep buried wounds,

Dying 1million times but still struggling to breathe.

Painting off her vulnerability with deadly stares of society.

Choking by her silence,

Chewing back her words

Spitting down her throat

And as they land head first in her guts,

She conceals it with a smile and the usual I’m okay line.

Deadly stereotypes have been tattooed deep in her veins,

So she hides behind the curtains

For she is just another disgrace,

Status quo remains the same,

Stuck in this land of wanting freedom.

Freedom from the chains of patriarchy.

Freedom from the pain liaised with womanhood.

Freedom from the tight grips of inferiority.

Freedom from herself and her fractured soul.

Through her struggle prints, all she ever wanted is acknowledgement, inclusion and equity.

child-abuse-702x336

SOURCE: https://www.vocfm.co.za/new-initiative-shelters-restart-button-abused-women/

Poetry

6 Comments Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

*space paths*

curious & listening

Thembi Terry's Blog

Live Vicariously

KorrJorr-Jeng

Shattered choices and stained veils. Crossing paths of Islam, Women and Society.

Cup of (T)houghts

''In worn out shoes''

Linguere

Genesis of a literary awakening, a discovery of self, an affirmation of voice. My whole woman journeys.

%d bloggers like this: