Serious Issues close to my heart
I was at a coffee shop tonight with a friend and she mentioned a movie she saw called "The Whistleblower". The whole thing got us talking about human trafficking and I was surprised by the anger she felt and the genuine pain. I guess I have struggled for years with similar emotions towards inhumanity. It baffles me how one human being can be so cruel to another. In talking with Ash, I have decided that the best way to combat such issues is speak out so I wrote two poems...one on trafficking and the other on child abuse. I haven't mention this before because it so very personal but fear, shame, guilt, and pain are not excuses for silence.
To Traffickers
If I paint the face of your mother and your sister
Over hers would you still do what you have done?
Pull the soul out, tack it to a dirty window, and smear it with your hands?
Who taught you that life’s fragility disappears with continuous use?
Yet you use, abuse, confuse…
If I chained her to you, would your conscious take over?
Or has your heart stopped beating long ago?
Even bad man have souls they say
but no
In another world, people value cars like sacrificial lambs to god
And children play with buttons like gold
But you….you defile everything! Why?
To my Stepfather
You told me that Joseph gave piety to god and saints washed beggars’ feet
So I bowed down and washed yours
You said “love is a stick that correct all things wrong”
So I learned to sand it down
Devoid of feeling, I submitted my limbs, my tongue,
my budding breasts….what more could you want?
“Dig deeper” you said, “knead harder”!
How could you know I was so shallow?
So breakable, bendable, malleable?
You did not have to cover hallway mirrors and open doorways
I didn’t look
The first time I saw myself in a bathroom mirror I laughed
It was also the first time I heard my laugh
Echoing through stalls, it exploded like exponential dust
And I knew in that moment Saints could not have done what you did
Fast forward one year
Crash your car into a garabage bin because I no longer played nice
Burn my fingernails
Convince me that I left the stove on when I can’t even reach
Give me raw hamburger for a daily meal
I know this rollercoaster will end soon
So don’t tell me that salt and pepper can play nice
Leave my stuff in a backpack….let me go
Goodbye
To Traffickers
If I paint the face of your mother and your sister
Over hers would you still do what you have done?
Pull the soul out, tack it to a dirty window, and smear it with your hands?
Who taught you that life’s fragility disappears with continuous use?
Yet you use, abuse, confuse…
If I chained her to you, would your conscious take over?
Or has your heart stopped beating long ago?
Even bad man have souls they say
but no
In another world, people value cars like sacrificial lambs to god
And children play with buttons like gold
But you….you defile everything! Why?
To my Stepfather
You told me that Joseph gave piety to god and saints washed beggars’ feet
So I bowed down and washed yours
You said “love is a stick that correct all things wrong”
So I learned to sand it down
Devoid of feeling, I submitted my limbs, my tongue,
my budding breasts….what more could you want?
“Dig deeper” you said, “knead harder”!
How could you know I was so shallow?
So breakable, bendable, malleable?
You did not have to cover hallway mirrors and open doorways
I didn’t look
The first time I saw myself in a bathroom mirror I laughed
It was also the first time I heard my laugh
Echoing through stalls, it exploded like exponential dust
And I knew in that moment Saints could not have done what you did
Fast forward one year
Crash your car into a garabage bin because I no longer played nice
Burn my fingernails
Convince me that I left the stove on when I can’t even reach
Give me raw hamburger for a daily meal
I know this rollercoaster will end soon
So don’t tell me that salt and pepper can play nice
Leave my stuff in a backpack….let me go
Goodbye
Comments
Post a Comment