There is a diagram of pain sketched on her
Face that only someone who doesn’t love
Her wouldn’t see.
There is a figment of her imagination penciled in
A life where she thought she might
He intimidated her will and digested her spirit,
Where she could no longer see
No longer free from the abuse of is interpretation
She lay at night with a pillow of sorrow driven into
What she knew as comfort
Secrets embedded in the walls of her mind that
Would not abort.
No one would be able to recognize.
Inside her no one could see the prize.
For the choices she made in this life, however
She soon will rise.
From her ancestors lie powerful sisters with
Strong spiritual foes, the fight in them rest in her
In the back of her mind, she could sense the
Things to do
What path she had to choose.
Like a stream into a river, finally coming into the ocean.
She would be free
She could finally see
Inside her soul, inside her spirit, was the answer
It was the key.