Silhouette

Her.

The beads too fall
elegantly past her hands
but they don't glisten like her tears do.
Beams of light caress her hair
while it brightens her ghostly being.
There she sits with vociferous elegance.
She glances past her clueless infant
seeing the same curious gaze
that she once had,
the same fire that lit up her orbs,
the glint that is fueled up
by the fierceness of her being
before the worldly ruined her innocence,
before expectations underlined her abilities
before society ruled over her passions.
Reminisce the choices
that led to the day.
Her lost innocence in his pillowcase.
A mere stranger that pulled the strings his way.
Breaking the plaything further.
While he was greeted with the cheers,
she got serenaded with the loathe
of the kin and the keen.
For all they could see is the wreckage
and not the wrecker.
Her mind as delicate as a flower.
The hope that was growing inside of her.
What wrong did it do to the world?
For she could not efface the consequence.
And now she lives.
Accomplished yet broken.
Polished yet rough.
Illuminated yet surrounded by darkness.
Time took away the memory,
of all the ones that accused her.
They got another one to focus on
and another, and another.
While she lives her life off in a disguise,
he still lives happily with a perfect family.
For the wreckage still gets the blame,
and not the wrecker.
Her mind sways as she rocks her toddler,
back and forth.
Between the past and the present.
Between what is and what was.
For the consequence wasn't a mistake.
Her child her only companion.
She will not be wrecked.
She will not be helpless.
For the fierce one that raised her
was made from pure fire.
The fire that swallowed up her innocence,
the fire that now lights up her soul,
the fire that shows her the way.
The fire that will let her infant survive
the pits of hell we call "society".
She will live to see the day her mother couldn't.
For the phoenix that's born is not broken.
It will suffice the depths of perdition
and still live.
~si

This is a work that has been in my head for a while and it is written from the point of view of a rape victim who ends up getting pregnant. And about how the victim-blaming still sustains in our society, the struggles of this mother to look past the trauma and start loving her infant despite being reminded of her traumatic past every time.