STITCHED DOLL

My fingers are too sore I can hardly grasp a pen
My eyes swollen shut I can hardly catch sight of whatever
My head throbbing hard I can hardly piece my thoughts together
I’ve tried making sense of the number of times I’ve been at the ER
And I can’t quite wrap my mind about altogether

I’ve gotten more stitches than a stitched doll
Conceivably I might be one
Odds lay it out lucidly
I’ve gotten more electric shots to start my stopped heart
Than my Dad’s old SUV

I still cling firmly to these callous days I breathe
Though spiteful
Every moment has turned around to gnaw my rear
It has be darn awful

Even after love lures me to a pit of flames to burn
I still fall nonetheless
I still fall for the same jackasses
Jackasses who slap the smile off my scrawny face
For the fun of it
Leaving me grim with a stare so dead it would rise a corpse

It shouldn’t be a matter of falling for the right one
Every human should know better than to raise their hands over another
Every man should respect a woman
Every woman should respect a man
Every man should respect another
And every woman so
It shouldn’t be a matter of personality
It should be a matter of humanity
Act smart
Stop the violence
Stop Gender-based violence.

Muzamir