My mind is disillusioned
When I gaze back at the efforts
Of the words in my dissertation,
In all honesty, The words in this paper,
Reflect my tormenting confusion.
It’s a quarter past midnight
I feel tired,
And still I have no conclusion
For the reason why this girl felt so loosened
So motioned and illusioned,
To introduce her story to the world
I mean, How stupid!
Perhaps it’s because the girl was chasing,
Running after the ideology and
The Notion that she would be set free.
That her perpetrator would be tried condemned and everyone else would truly agree.
Perhaps it was an odyssey,
For her to try and prove against her own hypocrisy,
I mean this girls neurology seems
To show no consistency.
Yet, I remain mindful,
That this girl was full of her own dishonesty.
She was struggling to release herself
And the conformity of her pretence,
Was crippling her liberty.
She knew how, staying quiet was debilitating her first amendment rights.
This was her only way of fighting the system
An action to show she was no longer trapped in a prism,
But an activist for women.
A new born loosed from the shells of her own skin
Breaking away from patriarchal conformity
And embracing her new hymn
Her story and her song.
Perhaps she did not want to hide anymore
Under the world of her oppressors floor
She wanted to speak for those at war
Those whose bodies have been ignored
And treated like shopping bags,
Reduced, Reused, Recycled and minimized by her consumer,
Those who have come before and many more.
She wanted to speak to those that say,
“Rape happens to sluts and whores”,
Furthermore, to those that don’t understand
That no means NO!
Let me repeat it, No actually means No!
No don’t beat me,
No don’t touch
No don’t you dare try me
No, NO, NO, NO
I am starting to understand.
That this girl, the girl I was
Wasn’t only angry then,
She is angry now!
Perhaps, I feel even more confused now
Because my mind is now stuck in a deeper illusion.
Reality and the flight of my imagination collide,
Concluding that, the girl I was, is me.
Perhaps, I have lost sight of my reason to fight
I have lost sight of the girl whose body ached,
The girl whose body was bruised and broken,
Against the walls of agony and the condemned.
The girl who said,
“I was RAPED!”, “I was bullied”, I was trapped, strangled and beaten”
“I was mocked because of my hair”, I was told the only way to the top is through the sheets”
But, I am awoken now,
The level of infirmity against anyone whose name is woman has made me woke.
Because no matter how broke and broken I am, I can’t just stand here, in a Utopian world as if nothing terribly wrong is happening around the world.
Woman, take the agony and the scars of the girl you were and use her to channel your fight.
Because the girl I was, made me into the girl I am.