Out of the sky
I was named into pages
Death,
Grief,
Loss.

 

I.
My life moves towards death like a flower opening its petal to sunset
Written with punctuations of yesterday
When I was alive with the philosophy of living
Carrying every breath into my body with style
For my body afloat with dreams
Of a girl whose favourite colour was laughter
Floating on the shore of love
Taken to a place called freedom
Her ears filled with the tales of land with gold

II.
Open to grief
Let me rest from thoughts
My memories are placed in a paradox.
From a girl, I was thrown into a woman
Who dwells in the furnace
Assigned with the duty of regrets
Where dreams became opposite in reality
Let me hang to this space of freedom
Off the bar with crosses of mistakes
Chains of servitude made in gold were placed on my neck
Hey a woman lives for others I was told

III.
Dwell in loss
For here became the end of me
I fly in planes named in sections
How to be a wife
Forget about you
Let his desires become your blood
Let his wishes pump in you

For a mother
Your body breaks into a river
Different from the pieces that made your face
Let this new river carry blood, sweat, pains, life
then see through these new lives in your hand

Freeze the girl – that is how to live
Let your knees bend daily in prayers
Bring heaven ajar with your wailing
For to be a woman is to be dead as a girl

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Ann H from Pexels