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.

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.

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. 

If this poem resonates with you, I would love to hear your feedback. Please leave a comment or share via your favourite social media.

1 Comment

  1. Vipin

    Inspiring anthem to “rise up” …
    I hope you keep breaking the rules !


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Recent Comments

Please share

Enjoy this blog? Please spread the word :)