Sweet was his love

Sweet was his love, draped in honey, garnished with chocolate. Soft was his love, wool stood no chance. I was the marrow in his bone. Oh, how wondrous was his love! He was the sun that shone throughout my day, the gravity that held me down in every way, the smile on my face.

I was so lucky to call him my husband. He was hilarious, charming, kind, warm-hearted, smart, sexy – everything a woman could ever dream of. I loved every little thing about him. Loving him was like a dream come true.

Then… in a blink of an eye, the man I once knew vanished in the night. Cold flames of truth coursed through the wind. Now, each day the pigment of my skin reminds me of who I am: Black, bold, beaten, dirty, and unclothed.

My soul is delightful and my voice is delicate when I beg for scraps. When did I lose my voice? When did you stop seeing me? It's like I'm not there, but I'm right in front of you. 

What went wrong, I wonder? 

Now the scent of blood feels familiar. The scent of beer and smoke now brings me joy. It's either that or the scent of my own blood. I'm screaming for help, but I'm not asking. How can I? When I would rather bear this pain than see you go down? Yes, I know you deserve it, but I still don't believe the man I once loved can now tear my skin open with his fists.

When did I become the problem? Or rather, invisible? Am I worth what you dispose of? Is that okay because I am a woman?

We are so proud of the ghetto where all the misery unfolds. It's a privilege to go to school, and we resort to marriage for stability. I never realized that clinics are for our 18-year-old bruised and pregnant sisters, giving birth and fighting death. Until I had to cure my wounds to protect you. Why? Well, Grandma told me to be strong before she died. Marriages are not easy, she said.

Each day I showed you love, until I realized I have to take from you before you take it from me. Survival at all costs – that was the new motto.

For I am a woman, my bones are weak, my skin is bruised, and my soul is rattled. The love of my life brings me closer to death. I've grown accustomed to fear and pain, but empowered. It's not easy, but I can't keep losing myself. If I drown, no one can save me. I am worthy, I deserve…

Written by Omega

Edited by Tino Bee & Crew