Ruptured

Written by: Therese Bacha

When I felt I was under
 judgmental power,
it worried me.
 
Those causes 
brought me running 
down the hill straight home
sit by my desk 
hold my pen write, 
while listening to the sound 
of the clock chiming, 
with a hope, 
when I leave my chair 
my life would change.

I was once a woman 
of style shinning, 
yet they judged me
as a tedious unreasonable 
unpleasant unqualified
for their society.

I felt once unique universal
they judged me,
as an undesirable person
with no feelings.

I felt once as a tenacious 
and tender woman,
I was judged as superficial
sullen suitable only
to suffer.

I once felt talented with tact 
but they saw me 
as a talkative
stubborn woman
uncreative.

I was once welcomed 
well known well bred,
they judged me as vulnerable 
with no vitality unlucky 
worthless,
a zero.

I felt once I was a warm 
warm hearted woman,
today I am washed out 
weeping, unwilling
to fight back, 
as my insight withered.
I am wounded weak 
because of them.

At the beginning
I was always right
today I am always 
wrong.

Therese Bacha
7 July 2013