#74. And she called herself Adaeze; daughter of the KING!
In her girlish fantasies, in all the fancy books she’d read
From everything she’d been taught, in answers she’d sought
She’d never dreamed that it would ever be like this.
She was ill-prepared for the shock of the very first slap!
Fisted palms, desire-laden eyes, wicked tongue and dirty lies
Strangled by loving arms, a hot passion, now colder than ice.
No, no, the first time was anything but tender.
It was hard, heavy and hot, a slow burning.
She was painfully torn from soft, mushy dreams
into this harsh reality of blinding, shinny stars
of bashful bruises and cheeks blushing blood.
A match for red roses delivered the morning after
and she inhales deeply, drinking in the pure fragrance
of innocence lost and tries to muffle and swallow
the silent cries from the painful cuts and tears
of cruel, insidious thorns hidden between soft petals.
Naked, she stepped out and ran in shame to the others
-Women she’d once thought honourable and strong;
Mothers, aunts, sisters, friends and strangers
But no one lent her garments to cover her pain
Looking away, staring shamefacedly downward
They are afraid to answer her silent, solemn plea.
Rather, they exchanged a knowing, uncertain look,
welcoming her into the fold, she was now a part of them
– the walking dead; a sorority of sad, soulless sisters
beaten by lovers, raped by friends, held hostage by spouses!
In exchange for diamond rings, fancy cars, -queens of trends
And she almost fell into the pit with them, till she remembered
That she had a name before the dawn of creation: ADAEZE!
Proudly she walked away and gave back the choking ring
She’d broken the unspoken curse, this wise daughter of a king.
(c) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido 2015 (All rights reserved).