(TRIGGER WARNING)
One every fifteen minutes, that’s four an hour
They get to know you, add some humor
They give you chocolates, get close
They get you to trust, become an overdose
I’m the engagement
.
One every fifteen minutes, that’s four an hour
They talk, touch and take a body tour
They test the waters subtly
They touch again, inappropriately
I’m the first touch
.
One every fifteen minutes, that’s four an hour
They engage, not letting communication sour
They play the game, use threat and bribe
They manage to conceal and I subscribe
I’m the secrecy
.
One every fifteen minutes, that’s four an hour
They take the big bad step, to devour
They take my brittle body for granted
They take me, make me feel unwanted
I’m the abuse
.
One every fifteen minutes, that’s four an hour
They are around, I’m made aware of their power
They are giving you nightmares; I’m scared
They are a shiver; I’m in despair, unprepared
I’m the fear
.
One in every two, that’s half the children you know*
They are lurking, ever ready to reach a new low
They are mostly a family or friend, play with my mind
They prey, again and again, till I go numb and blind
I’m the recurrence
.
One in every two, that’s half the children you know*
It happened, what do I do, where do I go?
It is wrong! Is this fun? Is this pain, a game?
It is confusing; it’s me or them, what’s its name?
I’m the “I’m not too sure what this is”
.
One in every two, that’s half the children you know
It is abuse! I’m the victim, but the truth lies! No?
It is misuse of proximity, position and power
It sticks to me like rain clothes on my spine, I quiver!
I’m the abusee
.
One in every two, that’s half the children you know
It is shame that beckons, creeps on steady and slow
It is that alien finger that didn’t belong on my lips
It is the unheard void voice, all over me, that grips
I’m the silence
.
One in every two, that’s half the children you know
I can’t inhabit this wretched body, I want to Go!
I feel sick, like dirt, my body bleeds, it’s my sin
I pick my best clothes, the ones I want to die in
I’m the reaction
.
One boy for every girl! Abuse; that’s beyond gender
I am older and want to heal, I surrender
I am in counseling, my skin, nights, and those fingers
I am tied, the blood, the fear! It lingers
I’m the memory
.
One boy for every girl! Abuse; that’s beyond gender
I finally accept it, and it sure wasn’t my blunder
I was bruised, only if my body could weave the story
I was lonely, friendless, led a life that was gory
I’m the child’s innocence
.
One boy for every girl! Abuse; that’s beyond gender
I was chewed and spat out, no wonder
I am seething, my eyes ember
I was strewn on the bed, stripped, I remember
I’m the anger
.
One boy for every girl! Abuse; that’s beyond gender
I am brave for speaking out, calling out the offender
I will say it loud, I was abused, there’s no shame
I was nine, I was a child, they are to blame
I’m the survivor
.
One boy for every girl! Abuse; that’s beyond gender
I own my journey and its current splendor
I was broken, I reached out, and that’s the clue
I am healing; I love ‘me’ the most! You must too.
I’m the Kintsugi
Author’s Note: Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with powdered gold.