Some time ago, I told you all that I would post poems I've written. Some were written before my separation, some through it, and some after my divorce. My marriage was abusive, physically, mentally, emotionally and verbally, so I feel this poem should be here. Please know that it contains language and can possibly hold triggers for some of you. Bear with me, it is long. I finished it today.
My Fortress
By Aisha
Alone once again, I sit with just me,
Wondering who it is, exactly I see.
A woman . . . no. . .a child, that is hidden within,
Stuck with a mind that sees only sin.
A life far ahead, so out of my reach,
A shadow I see, out walking my beach.
A life that I see, a life that I want,
But so many memories, in my mind they do haunt.
Depression entraps me, holding me tight,
I try to escape, with all of my might.
As I feel myself pull, away from this void,
A force so fierce, pushes me back so coy.
So simple, so easy, I am placed here and there,
There is no regard shown, where I am is... nowhere.
It is foggy and clouded, no more do I see,
but the abuse and depression embedded in me.
The vision I see now, is dark and is masked,
To hinder my sight, is not what I asked.
So slowly again, my fortress stands tall,
Knowing if I leave, it is me who will fall.
So inside my fortress I feel I must hide,
Alone in the darkness, there is another inside.
It is me who I see, yet different somehow,
She is crying and hurting and scared to death now.
Inside her I see the memories she hides,
Of abuse from a man to his submissive bride.
Of hitting and punching and kicking galore,
Of words so demeaning, such as a whore.
A cunt, a slit, a dumbass fucking bitch,
It screams in her head, at such a high pitch.
I see the tears that stream down her cheeks,
The one that is bruised, will be seen there for weeks.
Inside this fortress, she is dying inside,
Am I safe anymore, do I still want to hide?
To face life takes courage, yet courage I lack,
Depression and tears continue holding me back.
There are times I think maybe... just maybe this once,
I can climb out alone, not feeling a dunce.
I want to be strong, I don’t want to hide,
I don’t want to be, this person inside.
But strength is a skill, I’ve seen it before,
Only this time it is hidden, behind a locked door.
A key I once had, that no longer works,
Inside a closed mind, is where the new key lurks.
Every ounce of energy, every ounce of self worth,
Was tarnished somehow, since the day of my birth.
Each year I grow older, you would think I would learn,
How to fight, how to live, the life that I yearn.
But instead, here I am, in this fortress so high,
Clinging to another, as she is stuck deep inside.
She weeps day and night, no sleep does she find,
Only nightmares and memories, repeat in her mind.
I can feel what she feels, and see what she sees,
Because it is clear to me now, this little girl, is me.
Every thought, every fear, has been something taught,
Understanding and believing everything I am not.
Inside my mind, I remain the bitch,
The cunt, the whore, there is never a glitch.
Feeling useless and hopeless, no self esteem near,
What I see of myself, it has become so clear.
There is a key I must find, to open my door,
Which keeps me trapped, inside the core.
To fight my own mind, and the girl that’s inside,
To take my life back, and find something called pride.
I have no strength left, and no pity do I want,
Every day is a battle, that wants only to taunt.
So for now inside my fortress, I will stay with just me,
Wondering just when, I will find that key.
I have heard many times, only I can change me,
But weakness is something so plainly I see.
Perhaps there comes a time, I must force myself,
To reach out of my hole, claiming freedom itself.
Freedom to be, and do what I want,
But this key in my mind continues to haunt.
A challenge must be made, if I choose to change,
This key inside, is within my range.
With both me and this child, together as one,
The weight on our shoulders, weighs more than a ton.
Am I ready to unlock this door inside?
Or will I find once again, that I should run and hide?
A challenge, a goal, it needs to be met,
As I tell this scared child, please do not fret.
Together we gain strength, though the fear still remains,
But no longer do I want, to play these head games.
Never again, will I let myself cry,
From a kick in my ribs, or a punch in the eye.
No more will I hear, those God awful sounds,
You bitch, you ass, to hell you are bound.
No head games, no bruises, no cuts or burns too,
To look straight in your eyes, and scream out, “FUCK YOU!”
The key in my grasp, as I close my eyes tight,
Hold my hand little girl, with all of your might.
Together as one, there is strength I can see,
As I open the door, it is time to be free.
Aisha©June 29, 2006