Terror
He made me look at my insecurities with braveness
His hands of abuse could not scare me
So, I kept quiet and only gave him an eye and said a short prayer while his voice went over the roof top as he shouted to impress those who were watching
Little did he know that I survived
I survived terror, trauma and a worst deal of pain
At that very minute nothing could hurt me more than he could
My fear became my strong point!
My laughter at heart was giggles having a deep eye interaction conversation with a monster
His hormones were not at a steadiness but in rage
His voice was more certain than the loud music I used to be played and all my myth became my truth
At that moment he became a published book of bad errors and mistakes with a poor grammar
This was so rare to me that his desirable rage was filled with hurt and that it could be academically awarded a medal for a movie displaying right in front of my eyes
A rare me was more certain than desirable to see nakedly how the devil looks in soul
He was terror, trauma and a great deal of pain but I could not break but survive
Poet
Masego Nkuna
Copyright © Masego Nkuna | Year Posted 2019
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