#hesaid

He said my palms are too rough
And that a bottle of Nivea lotion cost a few shillings.

That my feet had cracks which would tear his sheets
And that they didn’t deserve to be dressed in sandals.

He said I laughed like a whore
Because when I cannot control my mirth
I ha-ha out loud and shake like a volcano.

He said my hair was like steel wool
Couldn’t I invest a wig - like Beyonce?

He also said I had tires around my waist
A petite Michelin Man of sorts
And that he was finding it hard to wrap his arms around me.

And then he called my short nails ugly
And that I should get acrylics which every “good” girl wore.

“Your face is too plain”, he said,
“At least rouge your lips and powder your face.”

That my hips were straight and my behind too flat
And that, “These days, padded panties were on sale downtown.”

He mocked my lisp because I called him “Thteven” and not Steven
I wish he only knew how cute everyone else said I sounded.

He said there was everything wrong about me but that in spite of all that, that he loved me.
But added, as a sort of by the way,
That, “You must have wriggled out of God’s grasp as He moulded you.”

And when I had had enough of him saying and saying and saying what he said,
I said,
“I am fearfully, and wonderfully made.
I am God’s workmanship
He created mankind in His own image, and likeness
in true righteousness and holiness
And that is how I choose to look at things.
Mister, you can take your love and stuff it elsewhere!"

 ©LindaKibombo