The Puppeteer That Stole Her

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This is for the women with the broken bones

With the shattered heart and tattered clothes

This is for the women with silent voices

Who made tough choices that were seen as pointless

 

Victimized, Ignored, Exploited, Unnoticed, Beaten, Scarred, Neglected

Marked.

Marked by the hands that fumbled through her hair and touched her in all the wrong places

Stamped with a man’s pride and joy; Marred

She screamed until her lungs burned inside her

She resisted and cried her heart out to the world

Asking for forgiveness, for the world to treat her kindly

Only to be laughed at, for her innocence now gone

 

He promised her love, an unforgettable love, a love so passionate

He promised her happiness, a loving and caring family to be born

He promised her his trust, his undeniable trust

He promised her the world

And she gave him everything

She gave him her mind, her body, her soul, her entity because

She loved him

 

She loved him

 

Only to be consumed, to be taken under the wings of someone who would only bring her up one time

Kidnapped. Taken from the beautiful world she once knew, turned to blackness in seconds

She would have never known

 

And even though she was freed from the chains of corruption and depravity

She no longer believed

She continued to regret

She could never forget

 

The words that slipped from the mouths like the merciless wind

She deserved it. She asked for it. She wanted it.

Not knowing the story behind her booty shorts and v-neck dresses

Failing to understand that she has 3 kids that she comes home to every single day

Putting food on the table, providing them with everything they could ever need

She put aside her feelings, and offered them for a better opportunity

All alone

And she was taken.

 

She could never forget the day

The day where her own voice had left her

And everything she had ever known had deceived her

For her life was snatched by the hands of a puppeteer

Grown old and fragile

 Thrown away

 

once more

 

 

And we the observers and we the people who have knowledge of this

Do not say a single thing, do not move an inch from the comfort of our blessed lives

When your voice could have changed the route that she was destined for

Knowing the signs and observing the lives that she held closely in the palm of her hand

We could have grabbed her hand and told her

You are beautiful

Because after all the doubt she has gone through, after all the false words spoken, after all the lies that were spouted to tear down her brick barrier, her tough interior, she had forgotten

That somewhere, in some place

Someone was waiting for her return

Waiting.

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