Tag Archive | writer

50. I ask you

Dec5

You know, I was born with all the female parts.
Does that make me a real woman?

I survived an abusive relationship.
Does that make me a courageous woman?

I survived cancer.
Does that make me courageous?

I don’t have my ovaries, Fallopian tubes, uterus and cervix anymore.
Does that make me less of a woman?

I lost my hair to chemo and now that I have hair again, I spend time styling my hair every day.
Does that make me less courageous?

I strive to be authentic daily, and in ways you might not understand.
Does that make my journey any less authentic?

©Brindology 2015

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45. Chaos

Dec5

chaos reigns in my heart.

tossing and turning, my mind swims, my thoughts in disarray.

chaos keeps my words at bay, away from my silenced voice.

everyone knows we kissed.

why does your heart stay still?

chaos runs amok within me.

i cannot hear my heartbeat amidst this noise.

this scares me.

i don’t know what to do.

perhaps you don’t love me

the way I love you.

i understand now.

©Brindology 2016

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43. indifference

Dec4

indifference has walked in where love once stayed.
she’s put her suitcase down and taken off her shoes.

she walks around, opens the window and looks out to the blue sky.
the clouds have parted ways, letting the orange rays of the sun shine through.
there’s a gentle breeze blowing, and she turns away.

the door is still standing open, just the way she left it.
love keeps walking away.
love isn’t turning back.

©Brindology 2016

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40. Washed away

Dec2

My sins have been washed away by rain.
All the colours of my past
— red, green, blue —
Are gone.

Only the black ink of my memory stains my skin now.

Let my body be my canvas,
Don’t judge me.
My body is mine,
My words are sacred to me.

©Brindology 2016 & Belinda Low
©Original artwork by Belinda Low

If you like Belinda’s artwork and are interested in finding out more about her paintings, please visit Belinda Low.

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28. Eggshells

Nov28

are you walking on broken eggshells,
letting them shatter further beneath your feet?
do the days seem numbered to you, too?
when did you stop caring about everyone around you?
when did you stop wondering if you could ever fit in?

perhaps the days don’t take that long anymore to turn into night.

i used to think what i said mattered.
i used to think i mattered.

there is a cloudless sky outside,
but i choose to keep my window closed.
i know the air is still because nothing is moving inside.

do you know who lived within those walls?
the armour is now gone, crushed beneath your feet.
the mask has fallen, never to be lifted again once more.

©Brindology 2016

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10. Book

Nov21

I sit here on this day and allow my words to tell my story.
Some pages may stay blank,
Some devils have not been purged.

Some devils do not deserve my time.

This is my book,
My story,
My time.

©Brindology 2016

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8. 2004 Revisited

Nov21

This madness crawls inside my head,
this ugliness leaves my words unsaid,
this emptiness makes me cling in dread
to the shadows of the living dead.
It has left me bereft
and afraid
to move,
to speak,
to stand up and be seen,
to rise above myself and walk,
to happily live my dream.

Would I be happier if words were silent?
Would I be saner if hurt had no voice?
Would the world be silent if I made no sound?
Would the world be voiceless if I made the choice to sacrifice my art,
to stop my words from spilling out of my barren soul onto this guiltless paper?

©Brindology 2016

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