I was 8. I was 18. I was 19.
The burdens and trauma that I carry are more than enough to last multiple lifetimes
Lifetimes filled with darkness, heartache, and pain
Constantly wondering when it will finally end
When I’ll finally be free of the misery holding me
I find myself wondering if it was somehow my fault
Maybe I could’ve fought harder
Learned to protect myself
Never left my room
Never rode the bus
Never wore those clothes
Never trusted anyone
It’s hard to rationalize it
Making sense of other people’s senseless actions
Despite it all, I somehow still have hope
Hope that history will not repeat itself
Hope that I will be cherished and loved
Hope that I will be protected, at all costs
Hope that someone will value my life
Hope that one day I won’t have to fight anymore
I don’t want to live a life led by fear
I want to live freely, happily
Without the fear of being hurt by the people I choose to trust
I want to be whole again
I hope one day I’ll be free
Dear Lord, please heal my soul
Elikem’s Corner, a series of poems from our Editor-In-Chief, Elikem Thee Poet. These poems give insight to a piece of her world; her own lived experiences and the experiences of people around her.
