Savaş

He predestined his revenge

before I was born.

Orchestrated it so

that every path I took would bring me to him,

directed by a hand from beyond the depths,

he kept drinking rage like hard liquor

bottoms up.

Saw the name written in the tresses of my hair,

in creases beneath my eyes,

knew the ring of my accent long before we spoke,

knew the taste of my lips before he

stole my first kiss,

before he began punishing me

for sins of others.

Bought voices of those who protected me

and turned me against them

made it so

that every street was alight with stars

so I wouldn't focus on the darkness

behind them.

He smiled so I wouldn't see

the poison in his eyes,

infected my every memory so I could

only feel betrayal,

crushed my moral compass beneath

the soles of his boots.

Ruins are a small word to describe what he left of me.

And when he was done

he took the years with him.

Smirked so I wouldn't see

the love in his eyes.

Left me so

I couldn't forget how his lips

burned my neck slowly,

and years after

I still see the blue skies over Bosphorus

and the sea water gently breaking waves,

hoping to shape the mountains

into the jewels it has always dreamed of.

Author's Note

Savaş ['sa:va:ʃ] - masculine given name of Turkish origin meaning war.

Despite possible confusion, the poem does not address, describe nor insinuate rape in any way.

Reviews

[Shirlena]

This is melancholy and beautiful at the same time. It's ashamed when there is a victim of any kind of abuse stays around to continue living in it because they are allowing themselves to be dissected and damaged piece by piece they are a roller coaster not knowing from one day to the next how long the abuser will stay sorry for their actions. It's is a downhill situation all the way around. However this may not be the correct interpretation but it was an excellent read and the language used is superb.

[Little Birdie]

Thank you very much! Your interpretation is very close to truth :) it's a shame that victims stick around the abuser, and it's dreadful when it leaves them with an empty feeling and nowhere to go from there.

[Cory Barrett]

I cannot imagine being born into a situation that was, violence and destruction where no just an alternative, but the norm. Your land has seen atrocities of incomparable horror. I am so sorry.

[Little Birdie]

If you're referring to Croatia, my country of birth, I had luck to be born in the post-war years. The city I live in had strong political guidance and was able to negotiate their terms of peace and didn't see the killings that occured in the other parts of the land. However, it's been more than 20 years and at times it feels like the war never ended, and perhaps while there's mothers still crying over their losses it never truly will. For all of us born in the post-war years, even though we have never seen a moment of the actual war, have been poisoned with the stories of cruelty. It's a burden we never really asked for, but one we are forced to carry nonetheless.

This poem is not about that, though! :) although I see how you could've made the connection.

[Cory Barrett]

I was indeed speaking of croatia, and the violence that occurred. Well i am happy that i was wrong!