You could call me Kevlar,
Maybe call me Spectra Shield,
From the Polyethylene kingdom,
Thick with incredible gel,
Resistant and indomitable bullet proof lover!
How dare you call me soft?
Even after such hermarrhagic shocks,
The aches, burns, throbs and rehabilitation talks,
That had certified neurosurgeons recrafting this frame.
I remember the clicks,
Foursquare to my heart,
One, two, three and I shattered like that,
Went through the knife operating this life,
Over and over again till stupefied,
Frozen to pain till I got numb,
Now bullets hit on in sequence,
They forget I’m already experienced.
I’m counting bruises tattoed on my heart,
I was ravished and no one observed,
Five bullets into a fifteen year old soul,
Locked up with logs for silence,
Slept in the dark feeling faulty,
Honestly my heart tattered from that,
A scene against my own body parts,
Yes, that sin from the very start!
In silence flames were fanned,
Justice denied and denied!
Silence prevailed as speech died
It was an eviction of my innocence,
But this is a closet I’ll unlock someday,
Right now I need not that sympathy.
I said I am bullet proof,
That girl damaged by the web,
Pictures all over labelled mistress,
Identities leaked without permission,
Corrupted to protect their reputations,
Then felt like closing curtains,
That’s cause I was scarred,
Occassionally marred and marred
But that demise remains my invulnerable.
Immortal I say,
This immortal heart betrayed,
This immortal heart denied,
This immortal heart gunshot,
This immortal heart silenced
This immortal heart tasted death,
And in its resurrection it lost feel.
I have a shield to this pestle,
My bad I meant pistols,
I count my years of slavery,
From forefathers till date silenced,
Tortured then exiled to misery,
Oh I have survived many gunshots!
For too long I have been numb,
Point blank to services that infringe,
That withhold and restrict markets,
Been spoilt and counted dead losses,
Yet I am still standing,
I said I am bullet proof!
Stout hearted I beat this chest,
‘Well done for hanging on,’
Society had labeled incapable,
My physics clashing their economics,
With built in schools that stereotype,
Locking up creativity and imprisoning passions.
I count those bullet marks,
One bullet for not being enough,
One bullet for slaving in,
One bullet for being ravished,
One bullet for my secret closet,
Then twenty more for silence,
But I’m still standing.
Here are my scars;
Was burnt by charcoal,
There is nowhere to hide,
Been marred in abuse,
Sweet soul couldn’t confide
Here are my scars; –
Been electrocuted by human sockets,
Harshly locked up in a coded closet.
How dare you doubt?
There is nothing to deny,
I said I am bullet proof!
Poem By : Majorie Nozithelo Dube
Date : 04/11/21
No part of this poem is to be reproduced by any means possible without the express written permission of Winsala Muses and Author.#WinsalaMusesLtd.