Hive Song
A poem by Megan Gieske.
I want to ask the mangoes
even them
what it means to be devoured, gutted, eaten whole.
My footsteps silent as a jungle
without leaves, so that even the wind
in the trees seem to say,
“What does it mean to be broken?”
Because I can’t let anyone walk behind me.
Because I can’t sleep in the dark.
Because when I was born, honey tasted sweet.
Because you can’t touch me (and I want you too).
Because if you do, butterflies won’t remember you,
and the ocean won’t rise past your knees.
I heard the ocean won’t touch women
who have made their thighs honey.
Because someone said, “Lay down”
or “This won’t hurt” or “Be quiet.”
Because you believe I could carry it,
and I have.
When I was a virgin, when I was ten,
a woman gave me a jar of honey. She said, “Eat”
because it tastes sweet, and the honey
won’t make your lips stick together,
and the bees won’t sting.
I’d like to be able to poke the hive, show everyone
what I said stings stings,
and they wont fly away if you tell them, “No.”
Because every time I see a woman,
a hive falls of the branch inside of me,
and I remember what it is to kiss honey
from the mouths of the dead.
A word from the writer:
Follow and support amazing organizations like The Justice Desk, Langa for Men, the Community Intervention Centre, Saartjie Baartman Centre, Cesvi South Africa, the Kolisi Foundation, and ONE.
It’s not enough to say sorry.
Download and read the Kolisi Foundation’s GBV Booklet, and equip yourself with the knowledge of where to go and who to call, when you or someone you know becomes a victim of gender-based violence.
If you’re in a place in your healing where you can, join me in raising your voice, so one day, it will no longer be necessary to share our stories because we’ll no longer have stories to tell. It’s time we all stood up.
If you or someone you know has been impacted by GBV, the Community Intervention Centre has a free 24 hour helpline at 082-821-3447 and 6 free counseling sessions.
If you are reading this as a survivor, remember you’re not defined by the worst that has been done to you but by the best that is in you. You can stand up. You can speak out. You don’t need to be quiet. You don’t need to hide.