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The Sabotage of the Malicious is Always Surreptitious

Doing away with my Illusions

By Aza Y AlamPublished about a year ago Updated about a year ago 2 min read
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The Sabotage of the Malicious is Always Surreptitious
Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

I've lived a lifetime of you

Selling me down the river

And each time, surviving

Enslavers, the inclinations of 

Rapists and murderers,

I returned to you, bearing gifts!

Always I brought you

Warm, gaily-coloured new shawls

You always clutched that threadbare 

Victim-tainted one, 

You wore from birth.

Now, with your evasive eyes

Full of excuses

The projection of your lies

Laying on my shoulders like 

Bile-smelling vomit

I have got at last, mortally tired.

Now, I have run out of excuses

You, taking with one hand

And slapping me with the other

Always left me aghast

But you drummed into me

Patience is a virtue 

Now I feel it in my bones, 

In the face of a bottomless vice

Patience is a path to suicide

Was I born to be your bodyguard 

And your healer

Your breadwinner 

And your cleaner

Carrier of your sins

All in one? 

Never again will I return, 

With cuts, bruised and bleeding

To massage your back, neck, feet

And while dripping with exhaustion and hear only 

The whine of your complaints

While your pride and your smiles 

Shine forth for your lie-filled only son

At last I'm turning 

A new page

On which of you

There will be no 

More a motherly trace

I knew that was always an illusion

Whatever you may say

Know, that I know

You are the disgrace

You betrayed your loving daughter

For the mouldy crusts 

At the Star and Crescent table

Farewell mother, farewell

Crueller than any stranger,

You talked of 

Of stranger danger

But strangers have been my salvation

They even pointed me to go

In the opposite direction far away from you

I said they were wrong

But I was mistaken; and they were right

Now I see clearly, 

There must be limits to loyalty

When home is where you are most hurt

It's suicidal to return

That bridge must be burnt

Farewell mother, farewell

If you want to blame anyone,

Heartless woman, 

Blame yourself.

heartbreakinspirational
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About the Creator

Aza Y Alam

Exploring how the political is personal and making sense of life, as an artistic teacher, a justice-seeking researcher, and a writer, one story, essay and poem at a time... Join me on the journey!

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Comments (2)

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  • Aza Y Alam (Author)about a year ago

    I really appreciate your response Micheal. Thank you!

  • Michael Darvallabout a year ago

    I will have to read this a few times, it’s simple on the surface, but very powerful and very personal.

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