Hush a little more

I was 14 when i knew that the world wasn’t black or white
It was a whole spectrum and not most parts of it were going to be nice
As a little girl, mother used
to tell me to hush a little a more,
To sit in a way they could adore,
To Not go on the swings with boys alone,
To not give them the number of my phone,
To not let them think they can call me at any hour,
To not give them that liberty, that power
I used to rebel her like a teenager, in full action
I used to slam doors, fight fancy in full aggression
I was 14 when he grabbed his parts in broad daylight in the middle of the road
I was 14, when he looked at me with that lust in his eyes,like i am an object to toy when bored
I was 15, when a version of him came stalking me from school
I was 15, when i had to fasten my pace because i didn’t want to be the blamed fool
The fool they say wasn’t cautious enough
Wasn’t dressed enough
Wasn’t decent enough
The fool who “asked for this”
I was 16, when i first travelled in a public bus with at least a million
I was 16, when even amongst that, he managed to touch my rear with his thing
I was 17 when my mother’s lawyer was hitting on me,
I was 17, when the disgust started filling in
When it hit me that the voice i had didn’t even matter, not one bit
That the movies had to be made to make an unsaid statement
That the candle marches were no longer in the news
That the articles we wrote so strongly, were of no use
I was 18, when i moved to a new city away from home
I was 18, when i decided to begin afresh
I was 18, when he hit my breast just for fun because he was out for a ride
I was 18, when he twisted my wrist because how dare i say no to a man of such might
I was 19, when he dropped me home after a party
When i allowed him to use my washroom, because i didn’t want to be mean
I was 19, when he grabbed my waist despite my protests
I was 19, when he couldn’t hear me pushing him away saying no
I was 19, when he forced his lips on mine, his hands clutching, hurting my waist
I was 19, when he kept doing it with me screaming for him to stop
I was 19, when he pulled my hair and forced me to go down on him
I was 19, when i saw him in pleasure while my eyes were red and my tears ended midway on his thing
I was 19, when he finally left after his little drunk act
I was 19, when he showed the audacity of saying goodbye like nothing happened
I was 19, when i couldn’t look at myself in the eye the next morning
I was 19, when i knew that mother used to give me the right teaching
I am 19, when i felt that i should hush a little more,
Sit in a way they could adore
To not play with the boys alone
To not give them the number of my cellphone
To not let them think they can call me at any hour
To not give them that liberty, that power