NaPoWriMo Day 4 : Zyah, Womb Of Colour

I will not teach her how to smile for you to teach her how to frown while her hands play with one another

I will not teach her how to laugh for you to later make her teach herself how to cry  to sleep as her fingers play with one another because I can’t trust mother nature and father time to teach their child how to love or treat my daughter.

So with that being said:

1.   You will give me the keys to your shared apartment before I barge in through window and start counting the tear drops on her pillow.

2.   She may flick her hair but she will never change it for you, her natural hair that is South West African proud

Kalaharian loud, I will not let you let her change herself

3.   Young Neanderthal do you have a check book or are you willing to pay in your life? Because you will pay, for every kilo she loses, for every kilo she gains and bonus if she is pregnant.

4.   Do not let her give you everything she has if you have nothing to take because you keep telling yourself that “Psshhfft, I mean I love her, or whatever”

5.   I do not want to see her on the late night news, as a mere story by a journalist.

So I ask you now,

Have you ever known her full-flesh? Because sadly I did not teach her how to sew up her wounds as you cut them deeper. But, with every wound I will always know for her heart is a stubborn compass so inhabit your past life and be afraid when it navigates her home.

This country will not be soaked in her blood like every other woman out there who has fought a battle like that.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered.

 Zyah xx