My neck veins bulge with silent screams
A storm within my heart rages day after day
I barely recall what it felt to be “me”
The African queens adorn their waists, wrists and necks with colourful beads
but I stand defenceless bound by invisible shackles of guilt and shame from my past
the maidens whisper and giggle on their way to the well arrayed in multi-coloured linen garments
but a weighty robe, draped upon my frame stitched with whispers of gossip, and threads of judgement and disdain
a dark suffocating veil, concealing my truth as the world’s...