Title Not Determined

Now, I know what you’re gonna think,

I know what you’re gonna say,

“Another poem, really? It doesn’t even have a title! What’s it gonna ponder on, world problems? We don’t need to be reminded of these things!”

STOP! If you guys were in no need of being constantly informed, then WHY must we accumulate more mishaps?

Sit back, relax, while I enlighten you all with a wake-up call of my reality.

A bundle of words, JUST A BUNDLE, can be sweet scaevolas sucking up sun, can be honey in a bowl,

OR it could be the permanently vile stain that lingers a residue on your soul,

Ladies and gentlemen unfortunately, I live that vile stain that lingers my soul.

Ladies and gentlemen, before you behold,

My agonizing story that’s about to unfold,

My agonizing story that’s never been told.

All my life my family forced me blind,

Not blind from my eyes, but secluded from my mind.

Forced to believe this, forced to believe that,

Manipulated to be viewed as a spoilt brat.

Imagine a head of hair.

Imagine each strand represents,

What you love to do,

What you love to wear,

Your meraki stringed into a symphony,

All of your friend choices representing that hair.

Now imagine all of that being secluded and sealed in a scarf,  

A quarreling quarantine graveyard of my brain,

My thirst for love and care for a loving family left unquenched,

I am emotionally reaching my last breaths,

I’m trying my best to regain my steps,

But I keep getting pushed over,

I keep getting stomped on,

By my OWN family.

My family that should love me,

My family that should care for me,

A family that will accept me.

A family that won’t tell me that I look like a hussy when I wear a t-shirt,

A family that won’t tell me I represent the devil when I don’t cover my head,

A Certain society telling me if I don’t follow religion, I’ll be beheaded.

My family telling me I’ll go to hell when I'm dead,

Society has given me this label,

This label known as an apostate,

This label that makes me feel like a price tagged item in a market.

This label makes me a criminal in 25 countries,

That is 25 places where people will bluntly, judge me,

Refuse to see, the imperative key of how we should judge society.

You’d think that my peers would be supportive and make me feel welcome, but NO,

They tell me to lose weight,

But do they know that my family heavily enforces the religious rule that females cannot participate in physical activities?

They tell me my hair looks stupid,

But do they know that I'm not supposed to even show my hair?

Do they know that every single day at school, I have to switch between showing my hair and not showing my hair,

Because if my family knew that if I ever showed my hair, they would confine me in the house for days or give me away?

Because I only have 2 minutes to do my hair and that is on a chair outside school?

Because one day I decided that I would leave the home with my scarf off, they tried keeping me from going to school?

Do those people realize I had to BEG and plead, on my KNEES, to go to my first few days of school?

They tell me I’m a spoilt brat,

Must they know the confessions that I never ask for my possessions, and that my family only buys me expensive things like golden rings, just to make me look like a bad person when I complain?

Let me tell you this;

If you never believed that money was more imperative than happiness and heart,

Let me start;

I’ve experienced firsthand what it’s like to be in a rich family but not have a happy wholesome heart,

I LIVE the rich family with an unhappy life,

And it makes me feel more lonely than ever before,

Lonely in a dark, cold cave of carelessness.

The hollow caverns of my heart go WOOOOOOOOOOSH!

The empty winds entangle into the twists and turns around taverns,

I call out for attention, but am countered with rows upon rows of dark echoes.

My family has mentally checked me off as abandoned, rejected, unloved and unwanted.

I ask my family; do you love me?

No, you are a  disgrace

I ask my family, why do you always act like you care? putting this mask on in the presence of other people?

They say, you are too expensive, we would’ve gotten rid of you long ago but that would make us look bad, and we like to brag, you’re like an item for show and tell, but it doesn’t matter if you shatter, you’ll go to hell!

I ask my family; will you accept me for who I want to be?

No, you either are eternally engraved into our religion, or you aren’t our family at all!

The religion, eh?

You expect me, to not flee, from you trying to control me to how you want precisely?

A certain mindset, they want me to be their robot, mind bought, my freedom shut, living a controlled routine an endless rut, programming me to not go with my gut?

I am independent, I don’t need your dependence or want your ascendance!

Religion almost dug under my skin,

Almost went deep within,

But no matter what,

I will never let this several year rut

Prevent me from going for my gut.

Its hard when you aren't a piece of your family,

And it is hard leaving them all behind my life,

But that doesn't matter,

Because I’ll move on to a new chapter.

I’ve spoken all over the place, I am certain,

So this is a title that’s not determined.

This poem is about: 
Me

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