My words half-formed in my mouth,
a subtle taste of what is on the paper.
Gliding across the thin black lines is my pen,
creating words and phrases I have yet to say.

Sometimes I'm sensitive
Sometimes I'm strong
Sometimes I break
Sometimes I break free
Today I feel strong
Though tomorrow I may not
And that's okay
Because that's what makes me human

The beauty I saw in your eyes,  
         Peering into your soul.
It's depths astounded me,
     your poetry amazed me,
Another half to broken pieces made whole.
Yet the pain I saw eluded me,
          it baffled me
   how you could be that sad...
I remember this dream I had,
Where you were in complete despair,
     crying in a corner,
             Tears blood red
I can't remember exactly what you said,
     but it crushed me.
           The next day,
while you were smiling and joking around,
I tried to glimpse deep in your eyes,
          what I found?
Stunned me to tears, after all these years,
          how could I not see?
I think you were about to ask me what was wrong,
            But you realized I discovered what you'd been hiding all along.
I didn't know what to say,
          or how to speak...
Then I saw a grin start to form in the dimple on your cheek.
         You'd fooled me, arrogantly tricked me,
You pulled up your sleeve and grabbed a knife,
              Started slicing away just to torture me,
          Slowly ending my life.

I woke up this morning
And I stared at the ceiling for a while
I did the unthinkable
I woke up
I rushed to my mirror
And looked at my square face
I said to myself, "Towela?"
I felt weak to the sound of my own name
I continued, "I'm sorry. For everything. The life you've had to live, mostly."
I stared at my eyes, I couldn't see much
My eyes were blurred with tears
"I know you've always wanted to hear these words from people that have hurt you before and they don't have the heart to say them to you.
For one reason or the other, they don't think you're important or worth apologising to. I just thought I should let you hear me say them. Maybe you'll feel better."
I stopped. I wanted to see the reaction of my reflection. It just stood there, blunt.
It's always been like that with me.
There's always been two MEs.
One of them is really weak, she's emotional, she needs love, she needs attention and she needs hope because she's always on the verge of giving up.
The other one, she's really tough, she's been there for the Weak ME. She's everything she needs.
If they were to meet each other in different bodies, I'm sure they would be lovers.
Because they've always lived like that, just the two of them.
And they've made my whole body, mind and soul to believe that I would never find someone so emotional and understanding as Weak ME and I would never find someone so encouraging and caring yet strong as Strong ME.

Yesterday, I was on my way to the mall and I decided to use public transport.
There was this odd man in the bus, who spoke in a very peculiar tone.
I heard him speak our local language, shouting, "I beat her yesterday! My wife came home late from work yesterday and I beat her! I slapped her! I ****** her! I kicked her!"
I was sitting in the back, and I thought that maybe this was just a joke. Even still, it was a rather morose "joke".
The man beside him, his friend, exclaimed in heavy laughter saying, "Yes, my friend, that's what we do. They'll learn to respect us. And they'll learn that they should not do just as they please!"
The man replied, "That's true! She must be thankful I brought her from the village and into the city. She shouldn't even be working. She should be home, being a housewife."
At this point in time, the elderly woman beside me shot a glance to the men behind her.
It could've been that she had experienced abuse, too, in her earlier years of marriage.
I knew she was stunned and I knew she wanted to say something, just as I did but didn't know how to structure her words.

I'm fourteen. And I'm very lucky to be born in modern day where abuse isn't tolerated and education for women is recommended.
It's more than "just" education. It's empowerment.
And that's what a lot of women don't understand.
I won't be quick to blame them for staying in such an abusive relationship.
Not that I'm encouraging that they stay, or anything.
I know that sometimes they stay because they can't leave.
There's their children they can't leave behind
I think it's high time society appreciated women, they go through more than we can imagine
Physical abuse is one thing, emotional abuse is the deadliest
And the scars left on these women's lives is irreversible
They learn to reduce themselves to this HORRENDOUS "lifestyle" that people from long ago accustomed to
Education is the key to success; you best believe that
Over the next few years, I want to hear the story of the girl who witnessed and sometimes endured abuse
And how she used her experience to help fellow girls
And how she further grew up to help empower women
I want that girl to be me
To be the mouthpiece for women
And it all begins today.

As my mother has said before, "If he even ATTEMPTS/THREATENS/ to hit you, LEAVE."
Due to circumstances that abusers usually encounter in their early stages of life, abuse isn't something you can easily rectify. It's not a cycle that can be broken.
So, L E A V E.
Close the door to abuse, open the door to happiness and success. Especially when you have the key to open it; Education - the key to success.

Thank you,
Towela Kams [Future women-advocate]

Something's very wrong
I can feel it
I hardly want to live anymore,
And I'm so close to a relapse.
Stress and hatred
And mostly self loathing
Are all taking their toll.
I just hope I won't give in to
Suicide and Relapse.

For the first time--in a long time
I sit by myself--alone--

and there's no where else I'd rather be
Than right here--right now--

With no others company except
The solidation of my own divine thoughts

And for the first time--in a long time
I put myself to bed--alone--

with a smile across my face
Utterally, and distinctly
at Peace

On that shore I sat melancholy and sad.
Thinking about what the wave had taken away,
About what it might bring and what I had.

Sudden emotion rushed like wind.
Overhead that moon lit lantern,
Translating my message to send.

Oh, what a shame to try
To bring you here by my side.
In meaning, over this ocean perhaps you could fly.

To my lonely abiding shore
and sing songs of magic together
a fantasy sheathed in lore.

But now the ink runs low
and the winds of my heart move slow
what I have left had been taken by that ocean wave flow.

If I could send
a slice of my soul etched
with this feather pen,

Perhaps I could meet
this angel I seek.
Siting in reality alone, cold and bleak.

Listen to my heart whimpering
As I write to you from its broken melodies
The only memory I have from you.
Songs that lack rythm in your absence
Can't seem to embody my current expressions
As nakedness revolts through my reality
And reminds me of all those scars
That paints my body with dead colors of autumn.

Listen, to the song repeating itself in my head
Like the abandoned vinyl still playing
After a suicide
Yes, suicide.
A suicide that our love has committed
In the land of hopes and dreams
Where the music never spoke again
But remained as a beautiful memory
That completes the painting.