Done
They stitched the mouths
of the storytellers in my family.
Stories brimming with
Courage, Beauty, Love
Got replaced by rule books
On should’s and don’ts.
That’s why I was born.
With mouth stitched up.
That’s why
I put up and shut up
Until everything
Not sung out
Backed up as slime.
Arthritis
They said when
I couldn’t hold
my newborn.
Joints so swollen,
Tears flowed
Faster than breastmilk.
Depression’s the name they gave
For stifled tears.
Muzzled rage.
Then, one day,
I undid the stitches.
Scared me first.
Puss, stench.
Never-ending tears.
Until,
Ever so slowly,
Bloodline stories
Returned through me.
That’s when I realised.
It’s them rules and lies killing me.
That’s why
I’m done being a good girl.
Inspiring anthem to “rise up” …
I hope you keep breaking the rules !