A Poem With No Title

Another random middle of the night poem born out of stress and desperation.

They never spoke again,

I have waited a year and a half,

I have reached out time and again,

But there comes a time when enough is enough.

I cannot force them back into my life,

Cannot force them to utter just one more word,

I will always love them just the same,

But their silence causes so much pain.

It feels like a whole population died,

Been wiped clean off the Earth;

And knowing in reality so many think I lied,

Just makes me want to run away and hide.

I cannot do anymore than I have,

I have forgiven them for how they treated me,

I completely understand the culture, though its sad,

I cannot go back and change what happened to me.

I miss them dearly,

I think about them every day,

I think about the pain I caused them,

Now in my history they will forever stay.

I long to have contact with cousins,

Aunties, Uncles, and friends,

But I know this will never happen,

And I will likely never see them again.

Its all so mixed up in my mind,

The events that caused me to be singled out,

If id had the choice, I would have gone to court,

Because then I would have less doubts.

I am disturbed by memories,

And also by the suicidal hanging,

And knowing that my people,

See me at fault for everything.

It makes me feel dirty and ashamed,

That I, and the other women are still blamed,

And for what is it that we have done?

To be born as "women" is all we have done.

Kevin, Maisie, Clare, Anna, 

Eileen, Rita, Peter, Barbara,

Candice, Kerry, Alex, Teeny,

Susan, Wendy, Dennis, and Jelly...

Those names are so very few

Of the huge number of relatives I have,

I still remember the day at the refuge,

When you turned me away - even that made me so sad.

If it were not for South African women,

Running the refuge out of sight out of mind,

Then there would be nowhere for Island women,

Nowhere to turn, yet these women were so kind.

But I know the rest of you still look down on me,

As you no doubt look down on many others,

And what did we do to deserve this?

To be born as women; in that you are so disgusted.

Disgusted with me for questioning abuse,

For speaking out for the others,

Disgusted that I have broken the "silence",

For women are not to be "free", I have discovered.

For if women are to be "free" - then they must be alone,

Discarded by all and everyone,

For "causing you pain",

For "shaming the Island's name".

I still love you - 

And always will,

You hold a special place in my heart,

That no one else can fill.

.....I was born a woman - entering this World having already committed the crime....and for that I am sorry.

Author's Note

again middle of the night please excuse bad grammar...thanks. xx

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

This one comes across as a reaction to anxiety. It sounds as though it was written in exile, after some traumatic event. I would really like to know the story behind it.