I bet he was bewildered and bedazzled by her innocence.
By her seemingly weak body with legs
trying hard to find affinity to the ground .
Yes, he knew her naive self had lived just long enough to know her name
And that of those who mattered
Yet, like a farmer he sought to harvest the fruits of a tree.
A tree that had nothing but budding flowers.
Six years old.
How was she supposed to know that that look in his eyes
Was a showcase of his desire for her?
How was she to know that his unrestrained desire to touch a little longer
Meant more than just a touch?
Like a new born with its rooting reflex
She yielded to his every touch.
It was safe, Or so she thought.
Her melancholic self had found solace in him
Mom and dad were happy too
Their baby girl would finally open up.
Her favorite cousin, he gracefully earned that position
As well as a place in her parents’ heart.
They trusted him.
Seven years old.
Under the white sheets
he took out a thick mighty club-like pen
That didn’t look like it could write on any sheet
But she was wrong.
It did have the power to write.
It wrote her story anew and changed her identity.
The abused, the unwanted, the unloved, the shamed.
He shoved it into her mouth before her optical nerves
could signal her occipital lobe to begin processing.
He swore to her, that was love.
Eight years old.
“Go out and play y’all”, “yay” they chanted as they ran out
She wanted to play with her siblings too
but she stayed,not that she wanted to
But he wanted her to. She couldn’t have refused.
He removed her panties
and invaded her most secluded opening
Like the rush of a mighty wind
With the force of a tsunami he descended on her.
Her young self couldn’t comprehend what was happening
but she begged him to stop.
This demonstration of love was painful.
She didn’t want this kind of love.
He swore her to secrecy.
T’was their love story.
Nine years old.
Her little haven couldn’t take his visits anymore
She gave evidence of her unhappiness.
She was bruised.
Mom and dad saw her bruised
and she was bruised
for allowing her little haven to be bruised.
He promised her hell if she did tell
But she would have told the truth
If only mama could listen and not yell
She would have deffed him and told.
She looked into mama’s eyes
Each day hoping that her eyes
Could tell mama everything
she could not vocalize
but mama was too blinded to see.
Her universe became a round hole
and she, a square peg.
She was betrayed.
By the very people who were supposed to love her.
Mama and dada said,
they would excuse her childish foolishness
if she didn’t speak of it again.
She needed their love, but it muted her.
She is a strong,independent, but bitter,
outwardly beautiful, inwardly ugly young lady.
One who has a six year old child living in her
screaming to be heard and set free.
Screaming to be let loose to live.
A dark room is a reminder of him creeping into her bed
So sleep would excuse her without light.
A touch from any man still throws her into a panic attack
And though her partner couldn’t comprehend, she couldn’t tell,
He would leave, just like mom and dad swore they would.
She lives everyday trying to figure out
what she did wrong
for that to happen to her.
It must have been her fault,
she might have done something wrong.
And if her sins could attract such punishment
Then she did not deserve to live.
There is a God who sees beyond what we see
A God who takes what’s broken and mends it beautifully
A God that heals every hurt and gives peace
A God who exchanges beauty for ashes.
That is the God who is looking down on her today with the eyes of grace.
Today the little girl will go home.
When she does, please welcome her with open arms
and give here a place to stay.
‘Cos that’s what God wants for her
A human hand to use
to wipe her tears and fears away.
This Post Has 8 Comments
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I am hoping to check out the same high-grade content from you
later on as well. In truth, your creative writing abilities has
motivated me to get my very own website now 😉
I’m impressed, I have to admit. Seldom do I encounter a blog that’s
both educative and interesting, and let me tell you, you have hit the nail on the head.
The problem is an issue that not enough folks are speaking intelligently about.
I am very happy I stumbled across this in my hunt for something relating to this.
thank you for reading.
I really like it whenever people get together and share opinions.
Great blog, stick with it!
God bless you! I love the ending of your story, where God enters the scene… you know everything changes when Christ Jesus enters the room. The sad poem of pain and gloom has Light at the end and I pray that those who have had such or similar experiences in real life find Jesus, the restorer of broken souls.
Jesus does change everything. Thank you for reading dear.
Wow. This got me thinking hard. Thank you for sharing.
Somebody finally showed up. Whoop, whoop!
Thanks for reading. You know you inspred this piece right? Do stop by often.