SCAR

SCAR

(m)

We reckless people of the world,

Eschew humanity’s affable thrills.

Coursing through the distance with animated smiles,

Moving figures of everyone that has searched for right.

We play loud gongs and look at the figurines,

Hoping in the silence, the voice speaks a little lower,

We are haunted by timid desire,

Claimed by fear till we have no words to say,

Beaten but not death,

Alive but never living.

All the while afraid of our own shadow,

Always gazing over our silhouettes,

But today as the music plays slow,

I wonder what our voices will say,

I wonder what scars the hidden smiles would portray,

Deep down there is a circus of death.

We only faintly live.

But today we must gently scream,

We must scream till the heavens open its eyes and stare at us,

We must show our faces so people may recognize our scars,

Slowly but surely we must all speak a little,

Today we must begin to live again…

(A woman who was listening)

I listen as your words ring out in me,

Beautiful ways underneath the devils I have known.

I am a woman, that’s what you see,

The image of my sepia toned skin vibrates under the carnal lust of your furbished sin.

My slender gift of air catches your imagination,

Drawn from the greatest tragedy of earth.

I smile to greet the earth that has shown me no respect,

From the day my feeble feet touched the air of this weary land,  

The only happiness I have felt was at being alive.

The truth is I had died before I could have felt what it was to be alive,

I had died from a missing identity.

Never knowing if I was a girl or a woman.

Too many nights I have screamed searching for help,

Asking if anyone could hear this troubled cry.

But alas nobody hears,

They walk away and around with clogged ears and blind eyes pretending they do not see

They never saw how difficult it was for a young girl at fourteen to walk in the eyes of men

How it was like a game of predators and prey.

They never saw how he grappled my feeble arms,

Jolted me into the woods with the  fire of violence,

Scarred my memories with images of regret.

As he pinned me to the floor like a dream that had no worry,

He tried to kiss me like a woman,

I was scorned by his negligence,

Hurt by his desires,

I was never a woman and I never got a chance to be a girl,

All I remember was struggling to break free from this devil in a man,

But the more I tried, the stronger his grip became,

He took off my clothing in tatters,

And sullen as I lay on the hot floor of the very day I could not forget,

He took my innocence with one sharp pain,

He jerked in pleasure as I screamed for help.

Somehow my helplessness brought him happiness,

Beneath my tears I caught his smile,

The devil in man that killed me.

For though he left me alive in the woods,

I died each morning after that.

My eyes dulled with the bitterness of a life stolen from me.

Still asking myself if I had any point in living,

So yes I will scream till the heavens knows I am  lost ,

I will scream till every woman shows her youth,

I will scream till I find the girl I lost in me,

I will scream till I am alive again,

I will scream till I have no voice,

I will scream till every girl gets a chance to live to become a woman,

I would scream till my daughters are not afraid of their own brother’s shadow ,

I will scream till I find forgiveness in my heart ,

I will scream till I can find the strength to look at my face in the mirror ,

And feel that I have grown,

I have lived that day forever in my heart,

So I would scream till someone recognizes my scar.

I am that woman who was raped. 

(A second Woman)

It is easy to hear your voice,

It speaks of rivers where our darkness has flowed.

You implore us to speak of our scars,

The battle wounds that life has dealt our every stare,

But my only scar was from a crime of love which was too deep.

I loved him when the weary sun had kissed the stars,

The sweat dripping of his thumping chest was like a drug to me

I loved his voice when he  like an angel spoke,

Beautiful words that never left my heart

I have loved him from when my eyes had opened to his sight .

I have loved the thought of the man he could become,

The greatness that lurks between the demons,

The past of flowers and green lands,

Aids my silent fortune of pain,

And in this dream of love and confusion, I lost my way.

I hung to a past that left me gasping for my day,

Mutilated by my feeling of pain and austere,

Hoping that if I cared a little harder,

He would feel the depths of my  love,

And be redeemed from his beastly carnage.

Yet every morning finds me bruised and tattered,

A punching bag of laughable proportion,

It became difficult to realize the difference between love and war ,

I was in love but all I felt was war,

I knew someday I would have to fight for me.

And that morning as he came at me,

Angry like a wind, his eyes dulled with the dream of liquor,

I felt his raw flight on the softness of my chin,

Fell on the floor like a hip of death,

Yet as I lay he kicked with venom.

Cursing with the wind under his breath,

I wonder what I did to him,

I lay down in the stream of my affection,

Tattered and covered in my own blood,

Wondering all the time what I had done.

So I would scream together with you,

I would scream for the lovers whose affection has been spit back with contempt,

I would scream for every mild woman who suffers in silence ,

I would scream till the world understands my voice,

Till he hears my bitter hopeless voice,

For my only crime was loving him enough,

Enough to be blind to the bruises on my skin,  

I know who I am now,

I was the beaten woman.

(A boy sitting facing west)

The dreary morning has made haste with the rising mist,

And everything that was mine has left with it.

They tell me I am almost a man in the world,

Yet I do not know what men should become,

The voices start above me again.

I hear the rustling of feet above my room ,

It sounds like the rush of two strangers who were supposed to be  known,

Their voices trail my miserable sight,

Confused and alone in the coming darkness of this unknown light.

When I stare at the window, the colour of life pales further,

Dreams beyond withers to regrets below,

Morning finds the sight of a woman covered in her blood,

Vaguely like the picture of the mother I never got to have.

My sister is a shadow of reality.

She detests the sight of my smiling friendship.

And deep as the loneliness slithered,

I found new ways to find absolution,

Kissing the luscious lips of the smoky pleasure,

Getting my dreams from a fix of wild tameness,

Moments find me dusty on the high streets,

Everywhere looked like home.

I grew up in a home of silence,

We never talked of what life would be.

Because my sister was lost at 14,

When she left and never came back,

I know she is in her room.

But that girl is a stranger with her face,

Her eyes bear too much hate.

But I cannot blame her,

Because till it happens to you,

You would not know how it feels.

Today I put the blunt in my face,

Electrifying sweetness, the melody of joy,

The stars shine a little brighter.

Because somewhere I would belong,

I have no pain to deal,

My only pain was living without direction,

Reckless beyond doom.

I carry their picture with me,

The smiles on their faces was never seen again,

It was the biggest scar.

To find your happiness that had been lost.

(M)

We showed our scars under the golden sun,

With hope that somewhere when hope is bleak,

And life only speaks in dirges,

The voices of this pain would ring through,

We all have a hidden scar.

What could be yours? 

by elijah peter (c)2016