At 14 she experience a kind of violence
that no girl should ever know.
There was alcohol and
a lack of adult supervision
and a boy
who wanted something
without asking first.
Did he feel entitled?
Did he see the pleasure
in front of him, like a skirt
riding shorter
as a means of relief
from his own loneliness?
Desire burnt away compassion
and at the expense of all else
he stole the gratification
of then and there.
Did he know in that short moment
his act would imprint a death
an aching loss
of breath, a hatred that would burn
inward and inward
until every cell poisoned itself
and her hair would hang limp
and her legs would bled
the damage.
Did he know she scratched her skin
knowing no beauty
and she hated the violence
like she hated the blood
from her womb.
She never forgave
She never forgot
She told the story
over and over to reference her pain
in this world like a marker on a map
She diminished herself and she forgot what she created.
She forgot, because she would not
have acted so violently
if she’d remembered.
Did she feel entitled?
Did she see the pleasure in front of her?
Like the answer to all her pain?
Her loneliness. The relief of
then and there. The gratification
of her dreams in that instant
burning away compassion.
Did she know in that long moment
her desires would burn a new death
an aching loss as a wedding ring
and a sacred promise fell off his finger
for good. Did she know she ripped
my womb from me? Did she know
the barren world she cast me in to?
Did she know she stole what was most sacred to me,
most fragile…
in marriage
But that hate had reason to return, those dark clouds lay in waiting and the shame brought
no light.
… I wonder why she could not have asked first
Why she could not have consented
to wait …
But she learned from violence
and she dropped those same
stones in the ocean. A tidal wave
is a tidal wave
and she is no better
or worse
that the man who wronged her.
She is oblivious in her
realisation of pleasure
because she has shown
she can do to others
what others have done to her.
