I’m lost in these thoughts, like the woods
Of savanna that froze my veins into fears
I remember losing the verve
I remember loosing my bowels
I remember my pricked nerve
Idling in inferiority , and me crying
I remember your hands, numb, gruesome too
Not to bother to walk me out of darkness.
I can’t pen my words freely, nor with super ink
Without pain stalking me till I surrender to bed, and tear-soaked pillows
I can’t utter my thoughts, opine them publicly
Without my ex, smearing me sarcastic smiles
Clutching his fists, in memory of violence
When I was once his punching bag.
So let me hide in long reeds of migori
Take along my broken, marble lily vases
buckets of overpowered tears
The scars, dented jaws, pierced heart
Take along blood spots seeking slots
Hiding, in depth of my thighs, tattered innies
Take along memory of you hitlering my nights
That my daughter sees peace, not pieces
Of broken hearts, broken canes,
Broken vows
A broken family.
SavouryMinds 
Reblogged this on floeticgibbersandrants and commented:
Wow… well written piece.
I have read it more than thrice and the depth of the message.
The distress in the words…
The pain that comes with domestic violence.
Your description of the feelings, thoughts…
I can’t stand domestic violence of any kind.
Thank you for sharing this piece dear.
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Thanks for reblogging dear . I’m humbled. Thanks for the comment.
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My pleasure dear. You are welcome. This is an amazing piece.
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“That my daughter sees peace, not pieces
Of broken hearts, broken canes,”
– Funny I was having a chat with a victim of domestic violence yesternight!
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As a country we’ve failed to address domestic based violence. Social leaders bragging in dereliction of duty.
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