Giftedminds Writers

Best Online Literary Magazine in Nigeria

I’m A Broken Woman

2 min read

You say you care
But you don’t
That’s why you’re not here but there
You said you’d change but you won’t

Every night since I was five
I’d have to be on my own
I learned to keep myself alive
Since you assumed I was grown

Some nights I craved a mother
But you were off doing God only knows what
So I sold myself to be loved by another
Now they nicknamed me a slut

I’ve convinced everyone but myself that I’m alright
Sometimes I wish I had a dad
If I did, I wouldn’t be out late at night
I wouldn’t have gone mad

I remember a long time ago
I was turning thirteen
Mommy had a boyfriend named Joe
She loved him even though he was mean
One night while she was gone
He snuck in my room and on top of me
Whispered in my ear that he was turned on
Forced my legs open and ravished in me mercilessly

I remember the smell of beer
It tainted his breath
Infiltrated my nose when he came near
By fifteen I was begging for death

I tried to tell mom, I really did
But it was stupid of me to think
She’d leave her man for the sake of her kid
So he stayed over another night to have a drink

Mom claimed she had to go somewhere
She left me alone with the monster
Now I have blood stains in my underwear
It’s all because of her

I figured I’d never find love
Because somewhere up high
There were angels from above
Who just wanted me to die
The realization hit me
I couldn’t afford to live
I needed money
And many were willing to give

All these men wanted me
They were willing to pay such a high price
I felt wanted and oh so deliriously happy
For once in my life, things were nice

Until another girl came along
Stole my spotlight
Leather clad legs and a sparkly thong
She took everything from me and as usual, I put up no fight

Nothing ever went my way
I began to question it all
Why should I bother to live another day
My thoughts were interrupted by a phone call

My mother had died
I laughed until my stomach began to ache
I never cried
It was a mistake

I should’ve been the one to die
I should be the one six feet under the ground
No one would cry
No one would be at my funeral… Merely the absence of sound

I’m a broken woman
I can’t help who I am today
Or who I was then
So I bid you good day


© SPS

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