reincarnation

a poem by anasia france

i am the reincarnation of the slave

she bottles up her pain and no one is obligated to give a dang

she runs and runs away and always ends back at the start 

she tries to leave but they all just break her apart.

she the slave and I the the young woman are one 

we FEEL as one 

he HURT as one

he mentally broke US as ONE 

we will always bounce back and free OUR SOULS from the maze of which we are trapped inside

but when OUR clocks hit twelve it’s back to trying to save ourselves

now we’re back to stave one

i thought we were having fun

i the young woman am beat mentally while THE slave SHE is beat physically

SHE doesn’t know or understand love 

because all people say and do to her is shove shove SHOVE

what is love 

people care about love 

but love comes with pain 

and pain comes with love 

SHE the slave was NEVER loved 

i the young woman WAS always loved

see SHE the slave never spoke 

but if she did it was always i’s hope

See me THE young woman always spoke freely 

because HE never really wanted to see or HEAR me

HE let me talk 

in his ear and went right out the other 

HE never understood how that made me wonder 

WHY me 

the young woman is still here while my soul is six feet under

maybe me and the slave aren’t always alike 

maybe she needed to find her way out and maybe i needed to find mine

i the young woman has come to a realization 

that HE may never care and wanted to see you hurting

HE the man may want to see you broken deep down 

to see you THE young woman turn your smiles into frowns.

HE the man never cared 

HE the man thinks it’s fair 

HE the man won’t listen 

so I the young woman am here for HIM to hear this

i’s want my life back. 

i’s THE woman AND the slave want to be free 

but now i can’t

all because what you wanted to do was flee

see He the man 

has turned himself into a child 

BECAUSE HE the “man” never cared if you were even WORTH the while 

SEE he the man 

never listened 

but instead he bosses she the slave around to do the dishes

see he the man 

thinks that his heart is scarred 

while i’m here with bruises trying so hard

trying so hard to be free 

but he the MAN won’t ever let me be me

even though it took me a while 

i got there 

i am finally understanding that 

i the young woman am and will ALWAYS be 

my own man