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The Voice of My Origin

Author:

Writing is a cathartic process in which I find my voice on different fronts. Each poem is a different discourse.

as-soon-as

When

When do you just let it go and accept what you now know?

When it’s all said and finished don’t let that voice keep telling you

It was all your fault When does the anger subside?

When does the hurt end and the healing begin?

When are you able to awaken from a nightmare created?

When do you stop hating decisions made in the light of passion?

When in the dark of desire, it all made sense

When will the rage built up turn to embers and segue to ash?

When will the duplicity be understood?

When will the betrayal no longer matter?

When will life return to what’s normal and all thoughts revert

Back to a positive mind

When will the silent tears stop falling and the sunshine is more welcomed?

When will the guilt be lifted?

When does the end become the beginning?

When it takes only one to undo what vows were taken

When does a god you pray to hears your please?

And take vengeance

When do you stop asking questions?

You know the answers to

When, when, when…

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Marital Rape

Misogynist ego bares its ugliness

Arrogance in attitude superior

Regard for her he held inferior to him

Insufficient emotions he had none

Taboo it was thought of

Alone she felt no one would believe her tale

Lasciviousness hiding in plain sight


Revulsion at his touch

Anchored to pain

Praying for retribution

Erasing all memories of him

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Methodical

Method to madness

Well thought out plan

Efficient in the art of deception

Coherent to its own understanding

Systematic keeping account of injury

Analytic brain adding and separating life

Punctilious to its own pleasure

Meticulous behavior of madness

Disciplined to pain

Diligent in failings

Rigorous aggressive nature of disappointment

Methodical

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Inhuman

He loved her body but not her soul

heartless he was

Not an ounce of caring in the caresses of his fingertips

only cruel intentions

She fought the pain wincing at every inflicted

deliberate embrace

He only smiled cruelty traced his evil lips

that dripped with deceptive intent

Nowhere to run

nowhere to hide no one to turn to

She held her breath

as she prayed for death to come quickly

He pulled away

her body bruised as spent tears cradled her swollen breast

She stumbled from the bed

disappeared into nothingness returning with gun in hand

One shot ended her pain

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Beauty She Is

Beneath her surface no one bothered to explore
External exquisiteness catches eyes
Antagonism never touched her soul
Understanding gave her gracefulness
Truth was her strength
Years of hard work with no rewards


She still held her head high
Her greatest gift were her children
Even when they’d stumble and fall

In her was the heart of warrior
Soul of an angel she will forever be


Beauty She Is…

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Extinction

Love once so pure
Untainted by the world
Lived to breathe truth and honesty
Unblemished untouched by negativity
In prisoned in its own environment
Protected secure impenetrable
To evil forces
Slowly love begin to wonder away
From its purity
Exploring new dimensions
Inviting in outside forces

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Too Late Love has Packed its Bags

He rocked back in forth trembling hands

Held up close to his face in prayer

Something maybe he should have been

Doing all along, praying for the knowledge on

How to love his woman

Empty closets that her clothes use to adorn

The clashing sound of hangers reverberated in his mind

Where she kept her perfumes and make-up

Cried out to him she was no longer here

Called all her friends

His calls were sent to voicemail

He tried to send her a text

His texts were now blocked

He tried to contact her on her

Social network

He was blocked there too

Tears begin to roll down from his eyes

He had a prize and now she was

Someone else’s queen

Didn’t she know how much he loved her?

Didn’t he tell her every now and then?

He made love to her giving her his everything

Then rolled over and went to sleep

How dare she walk out of his life?

Without even a goodbye

Didn’t he spend lavishly on her?

Showering her with brand new

Pots and pans so she would stop

Complaining about the rusty ones she was using

He acquired new things for himself

In addition, they weren’t pots and pans

Didn’t he remember special dates?

It wasn’t his fault he forgot most of them

This was his way of love

Now she was with someone

Who knows how to treat a woman

Putting her feelings before his

Showering her with the attention

She was deprived of

He helps to build back her self-esteem

And loved her beyond words

All because it was

Too late love has packed its bags

And unpacked them in happiness joy and laughter



as-soon-as

My Heart

My heart sears each time
My thoughts of you
Burn into my consciousness
Becoming aware there’s a part of me missing
Time balances’ itself with desire with growth
In between the seeds of longing are planted and
Fertilized with tears of wanting completeness

© 2021 ek ellis

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