#womensvoice
My body was a sacred mountain —
no one climbed.
You did,
with slippers on.
You mistook my sacredness
for solitude.
You stitched my tongue
with fear.
The blood inside me
broke past its clot —
a sudden river
fighting its threat.
And when I left,
I swore:
No hand would wander
here
uninvited.
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 6:20 AM UTC
I’m sorry, sister.
I watched as mama
took your hand
and placed it in his.
There was nothing I could do.
The same fate waits for me—
bound like roots,
tethered to a tree.
I am a broken calabash,
my dreams scattered
like soil after harvest.
Does a girl need a man
to make her dreams come true?
A girl is a matchstick—
she can spark alone.
Yet without marriage,
society calls her
a violin without strings.
She traded me like sand
for a gem.
I wept
as I held his arm.
Feb 2
Feb 2, 2026 at 2:13 PM UTC