Every time he opened his mouth,
it was either to kiss or to lie.
Eventually, I got sick of both.

My dearest Jocelyn,

The very thoughts of you make me Homesick.
It's just as beautiful as miserable it sounds.

I'm sorry this ever happened to you.
I'm sorry you were just an 8 year old, so full of life and you didn't deserve this pain.
I'm sorry those pedophilic pigs preyed on your innocence.
I'm sorry you were born in India- a country powered by people, pioneered by strong men of principles but still feel powerless to protect its own people.
I'm sorry our laws are enforced to protect the lawless.
I'm sorry there is a *****, so possessed by religion out there who passed a mean comment on you.
I'm sorry there are countless many who favors his opinion strongly.
I'm sorry none of us could protect you or bring you back to life.
I'm sorry that I can only hope hell does exist and those men do rot in its deepest pits.
I'm sorry all of us can only sympathize and none of us can empathize.
I'm sorry I have no voice of my own.
I'm sorry my child, I truly am because you were born a girl.
I'm sorry to say how lucky I feel to be alive, that my sister or mother or friends are unpolluted and still breathing just fine.
I'm sorry this poem is pointless as the many hashtags that come and go after each **** but I had to write this for my own peace of mind.
I'm sorry as I can only sit back and pray there won't be anymore Asifas.

Take me to a land,
where memories never fade,
moments last forever,
summers never end,
where happiness isn't a choice
and sadness ceases to exist.

Take me back to a time,
when everything was perfect,
you and I made much sense,
when silent kisses were a bliss,
and love was at the top of my priority list.

A woman bleeds every month
not by her choice
but because she was biologically programmed that way.
So I'm sure a small heartbreak
is nothing she can't possibly handle
or get over with,
with time.

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived