Scars of Love/ Not Going Anywhere By: Shingi Mavima

Scars of Love/ Not Going Anywhere
By: Shingi Mavima

 

She said…

“I’m not going anywhere

This house, this bed, this life, this is all I’ve known

These flowers, these children are mine, mine to watch them grow

These tears will surely dry so honey don’t be deceived

It will take a lot more than slaps across the face to get me to leave”

He is home, he’s drunk again

When he’s drunk there’s no restrain

Barely a shadow of the beautiful soul she loved in the past

And with every punch she gasps, each gulp of air painful yet cherished,

     for it very well might be her last

 

And he says

“You’re not going anywhere

Who’s gonna take you in, you’re old, broken and worthless

And I slap you around now and then, I’m sure you know you deserve it

What more do you ask for, don’t I protect you and feed you?

Come on woman, clean yourself up, dry your eyes, you know I need you”

Need you… need you?

Words more painful than the physical, emotional yet

Disrespectful rhetoric perfectly weighted to manipulate even angels

Leaving her blind to self-worth

An object sent for the sole purpose to give birth

 

Birth… Kids.  Kids

 

And the kids say

Mother, please don’t go anywhere

You brought us into it, see us through it, and don’t leave this weight upon our shoulders”

They surround her and hold her, “Momma don’t let our lives get any colder”

The dilemma, the vices of virtue of love and life unforgiving

She has to leave to live, but if she leaves, she leaves behind her reasons for living

 

Dear God… God…

 

 

But the church said

“You’re not going anywhere

Fight the good fight, you’ll rejoice when the battle is won

Virtuous women stand behind their husbands, haven’t you read Proverbs 31

But even Christ himself bade farewell to Mary

When both she and he had reached the limit of physical torment he would carry

 

Tears on Monday, parents say “Don’t you leave him, pull through the flame

Don’t you dare disgrace our family name”

Crushed spirit on Tuesday, society screams, “Stay put”

Black eyes on Wednesday, her boss tells her to dress up, “Scars don’t make good business, now

clean that mess up!

Thursday it’s the screams, Friday broken dreams

And on Saturday they were all right

She wasn’t going anywhere…

 

They found her body; face down in a pool of blood

Another casualty of domestic brutality

But more so, victim of a societal system that ignores infliction when it is right there

And you wonder why… We’re not going anywhere