See I have died, too many times.

I mean; I’ve lost my breath,

Strangled life out of my heart,

And watched my soul ascend to the skies.

See I have painted too many beautiful lies,

Made my scars look like tattoos.

I have had pain enslave every cell of my being,

That I have walked pass communicating bliss with my smile.

Watched sorrow engulf my children,

And plant grieve down their insides.

See, I have watched my daughters struggle to break free,

Watched them scream out for my help

But see I have molded in me a stranger,

Built a pool with my tears just so I can drown.

Kissed the scars hardship plastered on my wounds.

I have had a closure!

I have carved out my pain and made them look like demons,

So believe me when I say I have seen them

Creep down my insides and eat me up.

See, I have allowed self-hate make love to my total being in a very agonizing way,

Wait, erase that. I have watched self-hate rape me,

Make love to me without my consent

With all the forced entries.

Then they ask, why haven’t you left?

If it hurts this bad why are you still stuck with him?

Why do you even love him?

These questions have been cemented into chains to fit me.

To choke value out of me and draw me down the oasis of unworthiness to break me.

But see, I don’t just want to leave, I want it end.

To Wake the human jailed inside him

And walk down the path of change.

Sculpt back my crushed soul into one piece.

I want to be whole, again.

See, I knew you wouldn’t understand,

I see the judgement buried beneath the sympathy drawn in your eyes,

I see the weak me you mirror.

Guess we can both agree I lost strength way before I started this fight.

But see, this isn’t just a fight or flight, there are endless maybes and what ifs I’m yet to decipher.

So when I find reasons coming back home,

I’ll choke these same pills down his throat and drown him in sleeping meds.

Drive my mind out of fantasy land- that it can ever be right.

But for now, I’ll day dream.

Build a castle in my head and carve out my prince charming.

Play Mary go round with my sons and daughters,

While we all drown in our laughter.

For now, I’m too tired to think of ways to break out of this prison

To be the female version of Michael Scofield.

I’m stuck in between these walls, too broken to live.




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Thembi Terry's Blog

Live Vicariously


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


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

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