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Clover Poetry Series: #MeToo

Clover Poetry Series: #MeToo


It isn't easy for someone who has been abused to move beyond it and have a normal life. Especially when she is abused as a kid and she only realizes what this means later on. How heartbreaking it is to go through something so undeserved. How bad it gets when that person turns out to be none other than a family member. How shameful and disgusted it makes you feel. 

Well, that's me. My cousin abused me for two years. I didn't know what it was at that time, because I was just a kid. But I later realized the “game” he spoke of wasn’t just a game.

I was devastated. I was disgusted by my own self, fighting hard to survive when I knew each day it was my pride that died. Depression, anxiety, and darkness were my buddies for a while. I was trying to blame myself and find faults within me. But at one point I realized it's not me, and it’s not in my head. It was his pathetic, disgusting mind.

This experience forced me to learned a lot about myself and grow stronger—not physically, but emotionally. It was a season of building myself up. A new story beginning within. I started writing and painting again. That, along with time, family, and friends, helped to heal me. 


Look up

Tears running down my face
Hanging my head down low

Thinking what a disgrace.
The hands that I thought would keep me safe
Turned out to put me in shame.

Each time I looked up saying bhai (brother),
You took me back into that time.

That closet started to become a safe place
Mom would have never digested the fate

You left me shattered with bruises and scars.
For you it just wasn't enough.

Now I'm 19 then was 10...

It took time to realise it wasn't just a game.
I'm not smiling,
But screaming inside.

Wiping the floor
Hiding inside.
That was me
Sometime before.
But now I'm alright.
The chains that once held me are broken by me.

As for the society, what could they say. 
I ain't your possession. I ain't your thing.

I am the person who I am called to be.
Showing grace, showing love
I choose to look up.
And do what I love.
Not because I am weak
But flawless and unique

Made perfectly
And given an identity
And I choose to look up

By Seema, 20


Editor's note: Seema asked that we include her identity, because, as she explained, "if that can be helpful for other folks to come and speak up, why not reveal it?"

 

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