FranKophone

In the shade of our tamarind tree, I often think about you, my baby. You would have been four by now, Maybe just started school. Your mother loves you, I want you  To know that. But then you always  question. You ask me, "Why did you  stop me ? Was I not reason enough for  Happiness ?" You were, my child, you were.  I stopped you, I did not want you to  die in the way I do. Every single day. My blood and tears are reason enough To stop you. Maybe some other world  Is ours. Where I can keep you hidden  From vile eyes, words and touch. Where I can see you smile, walk and grow. Where I can beam after watching your laughter. In the shade of our tamarind tree, I often think about you, my baby.

Didn't you realise I was hurt the other day ? Shards of glass pierced into my soles as I walked barefoot. You seemed to be aloof. I never said anything. You told someone else,"She's brave enough to handle it all alone". I wish you had come and asked me. You sleep silently all day, refusing to acknowledge my presence. I am not complaining ; I simply wait to hear your voice. I long to be looked at. Your gaze is my only desire. But you don't. Don't you realise I'm hurt by your reluctance ?