Time after time-

Time after time-

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The first time was labelled a mistake,
The second- a slip of the fist;
The third time was claimed due to fatigue,
By the fourth, I was used to it.

The fifth time, I filled up a complaint,
But withdrew, only for a sixth to occur.
By the seventh- I wiped off the blood stain,
Cold packs and analgesics would do.

The eight time, I felt oh so grateful,
There were no blood, just minor bruises.
The ninth time, I looked at the mirror,
at a person, I no longer knew.

The 10th, the 11th, the 12th time-
And my memories can no longer count;
The first time, He labelled it a mistake,
And I was blind to see It was a choice.
A choice… not a slip of the fist.


Hello everyone, I would like to apologise for my absence. Currently writing my finals, finishing soon though. I wish I could write and post and read your works, but there is only 24 hours In a day and at this point, every minute counts…  will be back soon 

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The weight of silence-

The weight of silence-

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To the women who watched him punch me and said nothing…
To the men who watched him tear me and did nothing…

I could run, but I couldn’t.
My arms were burdened with
Two children weighing heavy on
Me,
Run to where,
to whom,
With them?

I could run, but I couldn’t.
My body was pained from bruises
And contusions and lacerations;
Words now familiar to me, all
Thanks to so many,
Too many,
hospital visits.
He’d be on me before my shadow
Was out the door.
I could run, but I couldn’t.

I could say something, but I couldn’t.
What would words impact
The eyes that have seen fists,
Gracing my skin
Like a punching bag;
Seeing is believing I heard,
You saw- but you did nothing.
What has words gotten over vision.
I could say something, but I couldn’t.

So I caress my limbs with Ice,
And swallow my words
As darkness envelopes the sky..
A coward- maybe.
But how do you sleep at night
With your silence?

Day 8: Where She Lives

Day 8: Where She Lives

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His hand-
Swipes across her face:
Once,
Twice,
Third time’s the charm,
and she crashes.

His hand-
bloodied
From the daughter he has born.
The child,
Who is made up of
Half of his genes.

His foot-
Finds the ground
upon which she lays,
Not gently
-he grazes her.
mama stands and watch.
Not a word is uttered,
Just the groans of a daughter.

His body,
Moves away to rest from 
All the work.
Each woman,
nursing,
The scars they bore.

The guilty eyes
Of a daughter
Piercing,
The tired eyes
Of a mother.
And silence hovers above them,
Into another dawn.


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I really enjoyed doing the december poetry challenge last year. Plus, I found this really inspiring prompt called “30 layers, 30 days” which many bloggers have completed now. So, I decided to use the prompts for December.

Prompt: Where I Live

Writer’s Quote: Domestic situation

Writer’s Quote: Domestic situation

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Welcome to another writer’s quote/poem Wednesday, where I share some of my favourite poems written by other authors. I have always loved the quote above my Maya Angelou and try to keep it at the back of my mind, always. It also goes with today’s poem, which is a narrative by Ernest Hilbert that runs on the simple theme that – love is blinding to some.

The main character is someone who should have ended up going to jail at the end of the poem, but rather, he was headed to the altar to get hitched. Like the last line said, “don’t try to understand what another person means by love”.
Here’s the poem below.

Domestic Situation by Ernest Hilbert

Maybe you’ve heard about this. Maybe not.
A man came home and chucked his girlfriend’s cat
In the wood chipper. This really happened.
Dinner wasn’t ready on time. A lot
Of other little things went wrong. He spat
On her father, who came out when he learned
About it. He also broke her pinky,
Stole her checks, and got her sister pregnant.
But she stood by him, stood strong, through it all,
Because she loved him. She loved him, you see.
She actually said that, and then she went
And married him. She felt some unique call.
Don’t try to understand what another
Person means by love. Don’t even bother.

When someone says I love you-

When someone says I love you-

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He told her rhyming,
Was a thing of the past;
So she took up free verses,
To appeal to his good side;

He fed her sweet words,
And she chewed on with pride;
For when someone says I love you,
They can do you know harm.

He called her his sun,
For she lit up his life;
And failed to see the effect,
of his storm on her light;

When his fist miss the wall,
Colliding with her;
He would bandage them in kisses,
One too many a time.

She bloomed off his words,
Blindsided to the fact,
She had the sunlight and the oxygen,
All within her- to thrive.

He drained her of passion,
Imprinting her with scars;
Left her lying in a pool,
Of her blood and his lies.

Like a bee after honey,
He comes back around;
But an encounter with death
At his hand, was the last.

Now she’s picked up her pen,
And writes poetry in rhymes;
about the man who stole her light,
taught her to thrive in the dark;

Liberation-

Liberation-

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I see you conceal dark circles
And apply your mascara,
I hear you silence your sniffles
With pillow every night,
I see you cover with henna
The bruises on your arms,
But I know, oh mother
Who the knight Is In the battle.

He calls you names like lousy
Scarring you with his venom,
And he claims he does love you
Body and soul, fist and punches,
You take his storm and thunder
Shielding us under the weather,
Love and mercy go hand in hand
And his is just one sided.

He exposes your errors
Shaming you even in public,
And you shrink with every word
Antagonizing your existence,
And your kids are your solace
To us, you are a temple,
You’ve been fighting this battle
We say- it’s time you retire.

He can’t hurt you anymore
For your kids will be your armor,
And the patience you practiced
From your lord will be your reward,
Take one step into the pathway
There’s a whole world beyond this,
It is time to break the shackles
And step into liberation.