Within my innermost bones is a warrior,
Fighter blood runs through me like paint being spread over canvas,
I let the tears baptise me, drape me and form a waterfall for a crown,
I am a creation of God, of a Higher Power, of Love,
I am made out of blood, sweat and colonisations,
Out of village girls bleeding from abuse,
Made from worn down beaten bodies,
Sun that swore the melanin out of farmers,
With hands engraved in deep cuts and prayers held to the sky,
I am the daughter of a family who sewed seeds and patchwork to heal wounds,
Flowers grew where love was not found,
I was born from mental, psychological and emotional trauma,
Out of the flesh of travellers who had to leave their land for better,
For third world was not enough, and the first world rejects,
Made out of broken tongues, mother language in a melting pot of lazy engliah,
I am a Girl child made out of dissapointment, marraige expectations and prayers,
Out of milk and honey, out of almonds and butter,
Girl child made from chalk and mud, with hope I will give birth to more,
With hope that I serve a Man, prayers muttered under tongues, and witchcraft to steer away evil eyes,
Out of racism, predjudice and mistreatment,
Adorned in rich silk and gold,
I am a daughter who was hidden for 15 years within four walls,
a Pandoras box of lethargy, cursed tongues and forced religion,
I fell in love with religion, I fell out love with family,
with community with culture,
Pandoras box of demons, lies, stories, and manipulation,
I am Girl Child,
Who lost her parents too young, but managed to create a kingdom from hands,
I used the rungs of my ribcage to make a gateway out of hell,
Threw down ropes, guns, and weapons to protect the good inside of me,
I avoided bonfires and chalices to ensure I never escaped the pain,
Avoided the poision of alcohol as I see how it plagues the world,
I rode a boat through the pain, swam, drowned, doggy paddled back up to shore,
Only to get pulled back into the ocean where no boat came to save me,
I am a descendent of Mahrajas, of Sultans, and Queens,
Of Mighty Women, of Mothers, of Angels,
I carry my pain in my Womb as if it was holy,
I listen to her now because she is the Ultimate Guider,
I am the daughter of the Sun, a follower of the Moon,
a Watcher of the Stars,
A princess of many tongues, Urdu, Arabic, Punjabi and English,
Literture, history and freedom and education entice the wild animal out of me,
Art, Music, and spices create a cradle for me to rock myself to sleep in
Love,
a deserted word, feeling and spirit yet to be reignited,
Love, a ravenous beast I live for,
I am a freedom fighter and I wish to set my Women free
From the traps this world has told them,
all the lies its fed,
I am a Holy Spirit,
A Princess,
of Aftab.
A Provider for the world,
a Razak.