My first journey ever was to find my other half. I swam in red and there she was. When we joined and it turned out i'd be an other her too. In secret, I developed. Growing further till I was no longer a myth. Every thing I needed to be called a girl child was in place and after 38 weeks I was ready to leave my first solo village.

I sucked her bosom laxity to feed as she hummed African lullabies. Her eyes were my first wonder and in them I got lost and drifted to sleep. 

Within months I sat then crawled. By two, I could walk and call mama. School was fun but then not so much as dreams differed from life with huge margins. I dropped out and raised siblings while I was still a child after she passed. Her death broke me in pieces... I remember burying some soon after in a grave I dug within me.

Society hovered with obvious interest in my downfall. One by one, I proved them wrong and right at the same time. I perfected pretense and suppressed my voice.

I said and did what was expected of girls then women in silence for years. I ate blows and punches for dinner and sometimes in between meals quick snacks. I allowed someone to defile my womanhood physically and emotional. He raided my temple while he was at it and took my precious without my say so.

I bled in silence and succumbed when bitterness came calling. My inside was dark with broken pieces of self scattered all over the vastness of my dying soul. I fell out of love with myself and my reflection became a huge reminder of failure. I became a recyclable example tucked shamelessly underneath their vile tongues. 

Pointing fingers at the misfit who chose to keep quiet in order to fit in. I was branded a fool for staying with an abusive hand then blamed for abandoning my duties when I left.

Confused as to whats right anymore, I staggered through lonely days. High on low self esteem and drenched in toxic bitterness. My stretch marks cried out to me. They made some sense knocking grievances about the souls that led them to curve densely around my waist. I knew I wanted to fight even the strongest society deities for them. 

Most souls kept away until I found my herd and reluctantly joined.  I had crawled for miles and was covered in filth. Finding self is hard but I managed.

The first thing was to install filters deep in my soul sifting out what my system was digesting. I claimed my womanhood back and dethroned the society's expectations. My resilience soothed my wounds and adorned my reflection with unseen scars of my time absorbing pressure and heat. 

This queen that I am was not born to a tangible monarchy but she was baptized with fire. Thank heavens for this ability to bleed on screens and share my naked. I had to learn again how to selfishly love myself but now it is like the easiest thing I have ever done!

 

Darkest version of my life painted in metaphors.

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With Love... Black Queen!