i don’t know what hurt the most being beaten up or being taunted?
the beating produces bruises and wounds but eventually it will heal, it will become a scar, a scar that will remind you of the wars you’ve won, of the battles you’ve overcome the scars, in effect, will make you a better, stronger, triumphant person then you are healed of the traumas of the past healed of your brokenness
but the humiliation and insults, do they even heal? the damaging words uttered do they even fade away? how do you mend a heart battered by indiscretion? how do you cure a mind tortured by insults? how do you rescue a soul drowning with indignity?
will there even be scars after each prejudicial word is said? how do you cure ruined self-worth because of mortification? i don’t know what hurt the most being beaten up or being taunted?
will someone tell me please, because i don’t really know anymore which pain is worst, being beaten up or being taunted?
must you be a dream in my make- believe realm that i keep chasing in the silence of the night? as i take the long road, in search of the light, the promising yet blinding light of rational sanity and reasonable tolerance of steady balance and bountiful liberality for it’s never easy, to relate to others while making healthy choices
must you really be just a dream in my make- believe realm that i keep seeking in the chaos of my head? as i find my way, in pursuit of a solitary life ahead a life of upswing recovery and ease healing a life of peaceful acceptance and free- wheeling for it’s never easy, to find joy and happiness in the darkest of times, in the loneliest of moments
must you really be just a dream i keep chasing in my head?
this one’s for the child, the abandoned child in you don’t blame her for the misfortunes you had she was given up by choice, upon birth, not even her fault so if by some sad fate she was so hard and rebellious, forgive her for it was not her choice
this one’s for the girl, the broken girl in you don’t shame her for the mishaps you had she grew up lost and astray, in a place that sure was not hers so if by some sad consequence she was delinquent, pardon her for it was not her choice
this one’s for the young lady, the assaulted young lady in you don’t humiliate her for the violence you had she trusted so much and believed in the good of humanity so if by some sad repercussion she was violated, absolve her for it was not her choice
this one’s for the lady, the dumped lady in you don’t disgrace her for the love you didn’t get she was too young, too dumb and too naive so if by some sad chance she was broken and hurt, acquit her for it was not her choice
this one’s for the woman, the abused woman in you don’t condemn her for the exploitation you had she was a victim, a silent victim so if by chance she was hopeless and muted condone her for it was not her choice
this one’s for you; abandoned, broken, assaulted, dumped, and abused you are not alone, and you will never be
From an IG prompt hosted by Rosema of AReadingwriter #Novembernotes2021
if uncertainty is daunting, and living is just believing then i’d say, i love you with all of my fears, agitation, and panic but i’d love to believe living without you is more unsettling than any of my trepidation would be so i look at the heavens above and say my highest esteem to God for i’ve met my greatest blessing, the day i’ve met you
if uncertainty is daunting, and living is just believing then, i want you to know that if i can’t have you for the rest of my life i’d settle for the thoughts of afterlife so i look at the heavens above and extend my praise and thank to God for i know He has prepared a room for you and for me in His kingdom above
if uncertainty is daunting, and living is just believing then, i’d wait for the perfect time to come when uncertainty is no longer daunting and living is not just believing
i can’t breath, i can’t cry, i can’t even sigh when you pushed me hard, down the ground and why? just why? because i am different? my color is different from yours? since when did colors matter? since when did you have the right to treat me like i’m not even half a human?
i can’t breath, i can’t cry, i can’t even sigh when you humiliated me in public and why? just why? because i am not like you? my beliefs are different from yours? since when did differences in beliefs matter? since when did you have the right to ridicule me?
why the need to segregate why the need to separate
different colors? different races? different beliefs? different status?
it’s choking me. i can’t breath. i can’t cry. i can’t even sigh.
i need to breath. survive. live
from an IG prompt by Rose of Areadingwriter- Song: I Can’t Breathe (H.E.R)
with my courage and determination, i continue my journey
it was such a relief, a great retreat
for i know there is always, the path to the right way
*****************************
careful analysis and investigation lead me the way
i was firm, i was strong, i moved forward, and proceed
the goal is to advance, to continue, never to retreat
even when doubt was in, i held on to my emotions
at the end of the day, i know i will find my way
i went farther, i took the chance, i just travel
******************************
i took the hardest route and travel
the easy road was surely never the best way
i chose wisely which path to take as i journey
was ready to face the consequences as i proceed
even though never know what lies ahead, it might challenge my emotions
however it will be, i will never look back, i will never retreat
****************************
i took the hardest way to you, i never back down, i never retreat
knowing you will be there at the end of my travel
my courage was tested, at least even my emotions
i remained resilient and focused on my way
‘cos i know there is no other way but to move, to proceed
’twasn’t easy, ’twasn’t fun, but i love my journey
***********************
yet somehow, it has just begun, my journey
but come what may, i will never back down, never retreat
come hell or heaven i will proceed
come rain or sunshine i will travel
not even roadblocks or obstacles can stop my way
it sure will be another roller coaster ride of emotions
********************
i swear i will move on and travel
no amount of trials could stop my way
i am ready, i am strong, so as my emotions
*************
Prompt – A Sestina on Exploration
A Sestina form
A sestina consists of six stanzas of six unrhyming lines followed by an envoi of three lines. The lines are almost always of regular length and are usually in iambic pentameter – an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed one (iambic) and with lines of ten syllables, five of them stressed (pentameter). The words at the end of each line are repeated in a different order from stanza to stanza:
Stanza 1: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Stanza 2: 6, 1, 5, 2, 4, 3
Stanza 3: 3, 6, 4, 1, 2, 5
Stanza 4: 5, 3, 2, 6, 1, 4
Stanza 5: 4, 5, 1, 3, 6, 2
Stanza 6: 2, 4, 6, 5, 3, 1
Envoi: 5, 3, 1 or (less commonly) 1, 3, 5 or 2, 4, 6
This is one of my poetry roadblocks (avoiding it for so long) and I am finally giving it a go
Nothing beats the pain of losing yourself to somebody you barely even know. Nothing beats the pain of crying when you know it isn’t enough. Nothing beats the pain of wanting to die when you know death may not even be the answer.
Mia was your regular College girl. Pretty, charming, and smart. When everyone else thought it was a blessing, Mia later realized, it was rather a curse. For it was that same pretty and charming face that brought her to her agonizing situation.
Raped at 18.
And was forced to mature at such a young age.
Mia couldn’t actually recall the details anymore. Or maybe she chose to forget. Or maybe, forgetting was her way of coping.
Did forgetting help? Maybe yes, maybe no. One thing was sure though, it helped her moved on.
She intentionally forgot even the face of her perpetrator, the man who took away her innocence, the man who gave her endless nights of crying alone, and the man who at some point made her want to end her life.
But, forgetting helped. And oh, there was one more.
Her silence.
She never spoke about the abuse, to anybody, to anyone.
She kept her silence for so long. And yes, for some reasons and probably by the grace of God, her silence helped her forget and eventually moved on.
Now, years after, she chose to speak up. And why, now? Because she has found her peace now, and in her peace, she can better narrate her story and empower young women.
She promised herself, that she will devote her time, her expertise, and her resources to help victims of abuse and violence cope and survive.
And yes, Mia moved on; but she was never healed. Moving on, is entirely different from healing. Mia realized this by helping fellow victims.
when you knocked me off the wall, you left me begging. begging for a chance. a chance to kindness, compassion, and love. but you walked away, in your great Gatsby-style swag. as if nothing happened. no harm was done.
you left me bleeding. my heart bled for the future my soul cried for the trust
when you knocked me off the wall, you took away, away all the good in me, the best in me. except for one thing. one thing.
my strength.
for when you knocked me off the wall, I swear you’ll never have me nor will you ever have the power over me.
when you knocked me off the wall, I was hurt. I was scared.
I agonized.
but I took the courage and said no, no, to your outrageous crazy way of getting what you want
No one doubts that you’re in pain when you’re walking around bleeding. You’re lucky, if someone believes you’re hurt, without you having to forcibly cut off an arm.
Naira was fine. She was perfect. There wasn’t a scratch on her. She was just about to throw herself off the top of a high-rise, that was all. And what was so special about that?
Everyone had problems. Anyone who thought their problems deserved attention just wasn’t trying hard enough to solve them. Right?
War was hard. Poverty was hard. Going out to break you’re back trying to make money was hard.
Marriage? You couldn’t possibly be complaining about being married. You wanted to be married, didn’t you? Learning your partner’s personality, his tendencies, his flaws. That was your responsibility, wasn’t it?
No one asks for international tensions. No one leaves his mother’s womb asking Allah to make him poor. But you, you made a choice, gave a vow. It was a commitment no one forced you into. You deal with it.
He never even hit you. Why are you unhappy? Others have it worse, Naira. Other women get new bruises every day. Do you see them leaving their husbands? That’s right.
You deal with the yelling. And the things he says. In front of your parents, in front of your brothers and sisters, in front of your co-workers. What was the worst they could do anyway? They were just words.
See, you’re fine. Naira, you’re perfect. Not a scratch on you. In all of ten years, not a bruise on you. And—
You’re tired. And that’s okay. You did everything you could.
It’s time to make yourself well.
All relationships lie somewhere in the middle of healthy and unhealthy at any given time. That’s why it’s important to identify the patterns and behaviors of our own relationships. Because relationships that visit the unhealthy area one too many instances tend to like to stay there.
Read more true and inspiring stories of abuse and violence in “After Rain Skies” ebook copy available via KOBO.COM
michnavs 