Called

Trigger Warning: Sexual assault

When I was nothing

more than the height of a rainbow

the storm came, but they

always left with a smile of colour, time, and space

A bridge I could peruse

while my mother typed away

I snuck by, to escape

And I ran to a place no one knew

called Home.

When I was something

and I had won awards and did

well in school, she told me

it was time to become someone

that I did not recognize.

It was time the caterpillar to go

through its cocoon and

Emerge wondrous, beautiful, and brilliant.

I swam away, to escape

And I ran to a place no one knew

called Memory.

When I was just about getting the hang of things

and I had thought life was good

they decided, we are to leave

I was always one for adventure

but there’s a reason why it is

called the Unknown.

Amidst a snowstorm,

I arrived, new, like a forlorn babe

To a land of white faces, kind words,

But dishonest sentiments.

I sat on the cold, linoleum floor

as they called me

Names, but not my name.

But it was time to emerge from

the cocoon, and soon they stopped

calling me names, and they

called me Worse.

When I was something, again

and I was no longer a feeble cocoon

I decided to try to fly

like I once did

A long time ago, through

colour, time, and space.

This time, I entered, bottom first

and head last

Foolish, innocent, and unspoiled.

I squandered my youth, in

a place called Vanity.

The bridges I built, fell

to the ground

The world started spinning

I tried to go to Home

I tried to go to Memory.

But all I had was myself, and I alone.

and he swore

that he

never

Touched me.

The blood on my thighs say different.

the white of his hands

and the black of my eyes

I gather my things

And run to a place no one knew

called Shame.

Then I was nothing

more than what I could build

from my own two hands

and my own two feet

I stood upon the mountain of

my heart, and shouted

that I alone, was responsible

for a metamorphosis.

Then I was something

and I had raised my voice loud

enough for those, who like me

were once not heard.

And I raised my voice louder

which thundered and resounded

in countless chords

of songs, and the sisters who sung

them, were unashamed.

So rich is our history

so strong is our heritage

so powerful are our stories.

I run to a place, anew,

called Home.