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Latiyah Little Poem
They pretend,
They go,
They say they won’t let go
yet they leave scars.
They bring you down,
drain the light from your spirit,
trigger wounds you never asked for,
mislead you into silence,
tell you to carry the weight alone.
They leave you for someone else,
but they never understand.
They laugh,
They hate,
their words carve scars unseen.
Each insult is a blade,
each betrayal a bruise,
each silence a scream.
A body becomes a battlefield,
a soul
a silent scream trapped in the dark.
Every tear is a soldier fallen,
every memory another wound.
But beneath the torment,
a woman still stands.
Her back may bend,
her heart may break,
but she carries storms
they’ll never understand.
And still, she rises.
With fire in her breath,
with thunder in her veins,
with strength stitched from every scar
they thought would destroy her.
For a woman is more than torment,
more than the pain they gave.
She is survival,
she is fury,
she is love,
she is unbroken
and she will not fall.
She will write her own ending,
turn wounds into wisdom,
turn silence into song.
Her story will not be stolen.
Her truth will not be erased.
Her soul will not be owned.
For even in torment,
a woman’s spirit
remains her own.
Copyright © Latiyah Little | Year Posted 2025
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