Yumna is an author who loves writing poetry about issues like identity.

Hello everyone !

Thank you for clicking on my post :)

This poem was inspired by people that I have met online, real-life and my own personal experience going through difficult times in their lives either feeling insecure or just sad. This is also influenced by a spoken word poem I heard the other day about self-love and self-care.

Hopefully, you can take something away from this poem and as always, constructive criticism is welcomed and much appreciated.

Enjoy x

Broken

She would always be a women of wounds

Scars plastered on her toughened skin

She built a barrier - a mental, physical and emotional one

Shielded herself

Lines etched on her forehead like the memories etched in her heart

She was broken

Irreparable

She believed she would never heal

Her voice, so quiet that it wavered

She wanted to fade away from the world

Never wanted anyone to know her mere existence

She was broken

Shadows of her past swam in her eyes

The burden of something weighed on her shoulders

Yet I still do not know what kept her miserable

When she looked in the mirror, she never saw her beautiful features and her qualities but instead criticised her flaws

She would never be enough

Certainly not in her eyes

She was broken

So the one time I sat next to her, I could feel her shift away

As I looked up at her, I tried to smile

Tried to smile despite the frustration I felt

Tried to smile even though it was all I had to offer

Tried to smile even though all the love I had converted to anger

That someone was dying this way

Because that is how I saw it, a soul dying

Broken

Her blood being spilled day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute and second by second

The colour of her skin was becoming more pale

The veins on her skin marking the struggles she felt trying to resist the fight going on inside of her

Trying to force its way, showing the world that she was still there

Barely breathing

Yet still alive

Her rope marked neck

The chains holding her hands together

They were the signs that she was broken and even love could not heal her

But if she healed herself, love could certainly be a form of comfort and carry her broken body into a good night sleep

Comments

Asad Dillz Khan from United Kingdom on June 29, 2019:

very beautiful and lovely poem yumna! Great effort Nicely done.....