Blood trickled between my legs,
‘She’s ready for marriage,’ announced my mother.
I was married, within a few months,
She pulled me by my arms,
‘Do whatever he wants you to do, never say no, let him do anything, you just be quiet, alright?’ said my mom.
She claimed that it’s sex education.
And, there, he entered,
His lust filled zombie eyes gazed down at me,
He pushed me on to the bed,
Ripped me off my clothes,
He stood, rubbing himself,
He threw sloppy kisses all over my face,
A scream started to rise in my chest,
It erupted as a strangled gasp,
But, my mother’s words ‘Never shout or scream,’
Kept me from yelling loud,
His thighs against my open legs,
I squirmed beneath his still hips,
His hand squeezing my left breast,
His teeth biting my nipples,
He thrust hard into me,
Again and again and again,
I could feel nothing but pain, Unbearable pain.
How do I communicate this pain? I’m informed not to,
They’d call this ‘privacy’ to even discuss,
They’d undermine my hurt,
A flood of tears fell from my eyes,
He was done,
He rolled over next to me,
He didn’t care to look at my face.
I took a breath,
I grip the edges of the bed,
Gather myself to get up,
A sharp pain shoots up all over me,
Blood trickled between my legs.
— Kavipriya Moorthy