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MaliceBlumPoems
I am not afraid of you. Not your voice, not your claim, not the ghosts of what you do. You cannot have me. You cannot have them. Not my blood, not my breath— not again. Not again. I have wrestled death as a child in a house dressed up as care— where love wore teeth, hands were weapons, and danger filled the air. I clawed my way from nothing— from the streets, from being thrown— built a spine from broken shelters, made a life from being alone. I have stood in rooms with men twice my size and full of rage— met their eyes and did not falter, though I trembled in the cage. So when I tell you you cannot have us— hear it carved in bone: No sale. No trade. No price. No throne. When I stand before my children, rooted, fierce, unmoved, unbent— understand what stands between you is not fear, but consequence. I will not run. I will not hide. Come for what’s mine— I swear to you— I’ll take you with me next time.
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May 16
May 16, 2026 at 11:59 PM UTC
Not Afraid
I am not afraid of you. Not your voice, not your claim, not the ghosts of what you do. You cannot have me. You cannot have them. Not my blood, not my breath— not again. Not again. I have wrestled death as a child in a house dressed up as care— where love wore teeth, hands were weapons, and danger filled the air. I clawed my way from nothing— from the streets, from being thrown— built a spine from broken shelters, made a life from being alone. I have stood in rooms with men twice my size and full of rage— met their eyes and did not falter, though I trembled in the cage. So when I tell you you cannot have us— hear it carved in bone: No sale. No trade. No price. No throne. When I stand before my children, rooted, fierce, unmoved, unbent— understand what stands between you is not fear, but consequence. I will not run. I will not hide. Come for what’s mine— I swear to you— I’ll take you with me next time.
'Not Afraid' came from the moments in my life when protecting my children meant standing in the path of harm—emotionally, psychologically, and sometimes physically. I have gone through hell for my children, and I would do it again without hesitation. Because every mother knows there is a version of motherhood that is soft and nurturing— and another that stands in the doorway and says: you will go through me first.
#motherhood#strength#love
MaliceBlum
Written by
MaliceBlum
38/USA
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 11:59 PM UTC
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