Friday, 7 April 2017

A poem on hurt and heartbreak.



Hurt






She’s not just a stray kitten.
She’s a church mouse but not poor.
She ask herself;
How could she be stupid enough to create a memory as stupid as this?
A memory she would go to bed every day hoping to wake and discover that the memory has faded like an old fabric worn by the old poor feeble lady in the next compound at her country-side.
A memory she wouldn't be able to look at if it was a movie.                                            
A movie she would go through a nerve-wrecking risk to see it off the surface of this earth...
Was she blinded in the fog of her own of stupidity?

When he said she was beautiful, she believed.
She knew she was beautiful.
Even though her mama told her that she wasn't beautiful with a gentle rub of her fingers on her cheeks caressing it with warmth and gales of laughter.
She knew mama was happy and proud of how a beauty she had turned out to be.
He said she was the most beautiful, she believed.
Her best friend said to her:
I don't think you need to wear make up to make you more beautiful,
He said she was sun rays sent from heavens on a Sunday morning.
He said she had a big heart and warmth, she believed.
He said she had the heart of a queen and the grace of a king, she believed.
He said she treated him like a king, she believed
He said he loved her, she believed too

They were all a one big fat lie.
She didn't know she was listening to the sweetest tongue of the devil himself only that he was under the skin of a self-centered, insecure and aggressive man like a Roman gladiator.
He was an epitome of lies,
Lies deeper than the abyss.
A stray male dog.
A man who torments as if he is taking a half-filled glass cup of bitter black coffee.

Sometimes when he talked to her,
He said his words without trust,
He said his words with a nonchalant demeanor
His words pierced her heart like an arrow shot from a far range from the bows of a desperate hunter.
It would hit her heart like a rock falling from the peak of a mountain

He was the one with the coldness,
He was the one with the wickedness and black smoky fire in his mouth.
He said he didn't trust her, that she was a flirt, and needed an eye on her every movement.
She started to wonder if that was truly who she was
She wanted to take a brave step back,
Wanted to tell him it was over
But she was scared.
She didn't want to give him a benefit of being right,
Right about what he said about her being a flirt.

She cried to her CHI why did this happen to her?
Why did she loose her head? 
Why did she let her memories, mind, heart and body get bruised by a stranger, a careless mistake and a zero?
Yes a zero, for that was what she then saw him as.

How did she loose herself for all she is?
But then, she doesn’t even think she knows who she is or what she stands for any longer
Was she still the pretty little old her?
Was she still the Amazon she had known herself to be
She called her name!
No she didn't call her name,
She called herself sober, foolish and stupid
Her new identity became foolish.
She didn't care about what they said about moving on and putting all in the past.
All she did was ask herself questions.
Questions from the deepest part of her broken heart.

Time after time, especially at night when she stands in front of the broken mirror on the wall of her room, she stares at her naked self for too long,
Her eyes would often drift off to the grey paint of her wall
And see her shadow casted long on the wall
The reflections that stare her on the windows of her soul were the reflections of a broken-hearted girl,
A girl that lost her confidence,
A girl whom an ugly experience left scars on her memory. 
Scars she didn’t know they won’t last.
It was just temporary.

Her self-confidence seemed like it was a trillion miles away from her grasp,
Miles where she won't reach it no matter how she tried.
The trust she had in her, her delight seemed like a double edged sword.
The love she had for herself: her skin, seemed like a legion of flesh-eating worms
She couldn't bear to call herself love.
Feeling the hatred was like a night mare she longed to jerk awake from.

His memories left trails on her heart like a spilled paint leaving traces on a red sand
But after a while it all faded like footprints by the shores of an ocean
She was hurt,
Embitterment embraced her,
Hatred on her became a lamp she lit to enable her see herself for who she thought she was at that moment.
Now she’s recovering,
Those words he said into her ears resounded over and over again but they were now poison from the fangs of a poisonous snake
His arms and his body on her skin felt like irritating crawling creatures

Everything’s changed for her
All just because she met a man who told her that she is who she was before her heart got broken
He didn’t just tell her
He showed her that she was not the piece of brokenness on the inside of her
Nor the emptiness she feels on her feeble mind

One day she woke up and the ugly memories that depressed her gave her strength.
The pain was gone.
Her strong-willed mind was restored.
Her hope was restored.
The bruises were healed.
The strings were cut and she was free.
She was free in her heart, her mind and her soul.
It took a little while,
But yes it was gone.

Suddenly she could see herself for who she truly is.
She could see herself for the queen that she is.
She didn’t know that the pain was fleeting.
That hurt was going through a healing process.
That her broken heart was mended.
She believed more in herself.
She found herself take hold of everything in the midst of her misery.
She became unstoppable.

Now she can stand in front of him, look him in the eyes and tell him he does not deserve a queen like her.
He deserves a mini-devil exactly like him as his queen.
Hell won’t break loose when he finds his mini-devil.
But heaven will break loose when he preys on the beautiful memories of an innocent queen again.

                                                                                          Author: Chiamaka Geraldine Anyaeche.








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