I wrote this poem many years ago. I'm in a different space now but this reveals what I've been through in life.
THIS WOUNDED FEMALE SOLDIER NEEDS SOME TLC
(C) 2007 Nina Womack
ATTENTION! (right hand raised to right brow)
Before you attempt to love me
First, I must confess
a sista' got battle scars...
wounds so deep
they fester and ooze from pain
tender at the slightest touch
swollen and bruised
from hurt on top of hurt on top of hurt on top of hurt
I often wonder when will these wars end?
Repeated battles got me tired
from being shot down
yet with all the strength I can muster
I rise back up
My feeble hand extends out
reaching for salvation
from a soldier who cares
But like a ghost disappears, he's not there
This female wounded soldier
cries out for love
exhausted from being beaten and raped
by men warriors out to control, to dominate
who just wants to scream
from rage and anger and hate
refuse to stay caged
got to be free!!!
guess it's obvious that I suffer...like any vet
post-traumatic stress syndrome
nightmares of past wars left unhealed
A ton of luggage will soon be revealed
I cannot distinguish war from peace
deaf to declarations that the war has ceased
Automatic reflexes draw weapons to fight back now
even if there's no battle at all
I apologize in advance
my mind rewinds
flashbacks of various soldiers torturing me
like the one who pulled my hair,
pissed on my car,
and socked me in the head
less than one hour of saying how much he really loved me
or the group of warriors that pulled a train on me
denigrating my temple till I was forced to submit or die...
I'm still haunted by the voices of other male soldiers
cursing me with words like 'bitch' or 'hoe'
after making love to me the night before
And now I'm just a foe
Excuse me, sir, for my ranting and raving
guess I need alot of T.L.C.
shell-shocked from abuse. misuse and misery
With crutches in hand, I hobble around
looking for a soldier
to lead me not to war but peace and love.
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