“Giving up is not an option!”
Mother’s words echoed as I reached my breaking point.
Her words from many years ago became a lifeline that pulled me back to reality.
Her darks eyes had held mine unwaveringly as she said them, urging me to never forget.
Now, I must muster the strength to survive despite the spiked drink coursing through my veins, turning my legs to lead.
His hands left marks on my neck and bruises on my thighs
His abominable act a dent on my soul.
The disgust I feel as his wetness drips down my legs is stifling.
He is done and about to throw me overboard
But mother’s words echo, again and again.
They gave me the strength to hug him tight when he lifted me up with his arms underneath mine.
He did not feel the strength in my arms coming as I squeezed the air out of his lungs
and threw us both overboard.
I swam feebly out of his grasp and back to his boat.
With perseverance birthed from mother’s words, I heaved my body onto the boat.
The water dripped off me as I watched the man that knows not how to swim, but how to defile and murder struggle against the waves.
This babe shall blossom
Her colours shall be your words
Speak light to her soul.
Image credit- Engin_Akyurt
This Haibun is in response to Colleen’s weekly Tanka Tuesday poetry challenge
The prompts for the challenge are TRY and LIFE (synonyms only).