Saturday, August 15

#2 Her Sin. Not Mine


courtesy: Katherine Evans

The youngness of her flesh was her sin not mine;
So despite her confused state, trapped in that
flowering body, ruled by a child's mind,
I pursued her;
to her chagrin
and let my intentions be known
through the thirst in my eyes,
my grown hands on her fleshy thighs...

I was the only male presence in her home
when I came around,
since the one who should have led,
left;
her mother to fill a gap only he could
and as a result gave me
silent permission to teach her
the reality of what some men were about.

Her guide not knowing how to lead
herself,
just a product of the new vicious cycle
she still formed a part of
had no qualms about the goal I had,
since I made it clear that her offspring
was my prize for the having.
In her own broken, bitter mind,
she would never try to deny her child,
what she thought she had always needed.

Me.

A poor replacement for her own loss.
The man she never met and the thwarted love
that left her with this...
Growing, glowing cellular invention
with his eyes and her inherited
sense of grief and defeat.
This child that she could barely feed;
As old as the age she learnt that
childhood was for other children
and not for her;
And that sacrifice was easier with your eyes open and
your soul deadened.

She would, yes, give the girl to me.
I was all she ever wanted,
everything she never knew.
She was the alpha female in her home
and her consent was the throne
upon which my ego used as a commode...
Soiled,
but satisfied after the purged ills
of my lust was flushed.

Like she knew I was.

She was blind, teaching one who had
not yet learnt to see...
Thus,
my game was played
and the irrelevant tongues that
whispered would remain, checked, mate.
Just hushed voices that eventually
would recede into society's conditioned amnesia
when barely legal I'd gift her my name and seed.

And fully grown,
only she would remember how it all began...
With the youngness of her flesh.
Her sin. Not mine.

My Inspiration: Society’s ignored injustices. (2014)





© KohylahPiper 2015

2 comments :

  1. 😆😆😆. I'm crushing on every word
    Beautifully articulatated. A bitter tale indeed written here so eloquently ... it's such an irony that such beautiful words have been used to ordained a story so painful. Lovely orchestration kp.

    ReplyDelete

Join me on twitter...

Think on these things...Selah

Blogger Tips and TricksLatest Tips And TricksBlogger Tricks