African Mother's Mourn Poem by African Lily

Where I am from, mother's mourn the death of their daughters over and over and over
Daughters die day after day, shedding their womanhood and burying their dreams and aspirations one rape at a time
The bodies of empty mothers are walking the isles of Checker and PicknPay, buying food to feed empty daughters who didn't choose it, but still had to loose it

Virginities and decency scattered on the streets of Johannesburg, Soweto, Pretoria, Bloemfontein.
Rustenburg…
On a porch, in a bathroom, an unknown bedroom, under a tree
Below a bush.

The empty bodies of empty mothers
70% water 30% nothing

She will never know
She will never have to mourn the death of another daughter
She will not spend another day questioning herself again
It wasn't her fault the first time
She could not stop it the last time

I will mourn and carry my empty body like a trophy
I will untangle the unremarkable rope and create a watchtower in the mundane of routine and security
Celebrating the death of my memory and my body and my free will and my hymen
And my memory
And the memory of me

She has mourned enough
Until I die