She The Glory In The Stars
By Chisala Kataya
The glory in the stars; she thinks,
The darkened midnight oceans a vast clever depiction of her thoughts.
She speaks to them all,
Not for herself but to give them the knife so that they can split her open.
So they’ll see she’s human made too.
They treat her problems like paper cuts.
That is enough to get her noticed but not enough to get her noticed like that.
It will heal eventually. If only they knew,
What it’s like to have fear cover your lips and muffle your words like she didn’t scream bitterly inside when he came by.
He old enough to be an equal to the freedom fighting president at the time–it seems so long,
Though she clear remembers his touch then unwanted.
The filthy greed in his eyes as if he could see her weakened bones and not just the naked that he wanted.
Did he peel her virgin skin and flaunt it like it was something to be proud of?
Did he feel man enough? After he had seen the sun in her eyes and torn it to shreds,
Like she too didn’t crave a satisfying life,
Like it was easier to give her knives instead.
Watch her bleed, and scar.
The shame she felt then was like a knitted blue scarf,
Tucked neatly around her neck like it was a noose–it felt like one, sometimes.
She grew up being told that,
When the seams start to come off,
You saw them back on.
Don’t let them see the threads from your skin or they will make you the poster child for family disgrace.
Have you ever spoken the unspoken to someone close, and felt like the sky is being pulled away,
Unnoticed the darkness grows around you, taking your warmth.
Your sun is gone, taken and it will not shine today, or tomorrow, or the day after that.
They put their hands to her mouth, to keep her silent,
Like the fumes from the burning flames inside were something they didn’t want to inhale.
Make it real, make it big enough for them to suffocate on their sins.
She lost her voice,
Figured the best way was to put on a mask, poker faced, and be someone else.
Figured if she cut herself enough,
She’d be able to hide the scars.
She looks up at her thoughts,
Thinks the stars are something distant.
She’d love it up there, be someplace else for a change.
She too wishes someday,
That she’d be the glory in the stars.