Trigger warnings: Sexual Abuse
I wish I had someone famous to
Pin my #MeToo story on.
It would change the way we looked at the world.
Industries would coin new laws, HR would introduce sensitivity Training,
Parliament would pass a bill.
But my secrets involve the Ordinary everyday.
Fathers who thought you and Your five year old brother were His toys and then took you shopping for toys.
My brother never married,
He worries he might become our Father.
Teachers who finger fucked your 4 year old vagina as you scraped The paint ( probably lead) off the School desk.
He went on to have three Daughters.
Uncles who gave you lollipops After they jammed their penises Into your 9 year old face.
Paralytic stroke got him.
Grandfathers who rewarded you With 10 naya paisa for rubbing Their special place.
Friends you grew up with, Grabbed your pussy because you Were chill enough to go drinking With them
Still poke you on FB.
I’m not counting the actual Creeps here you know, the Pervs?
The ones who pinch your bottom On the streets, cat-call you, rub Against you in a crowded bus. No, no.
These secrets will die with me, be The death of me.
They are now encased inside of Me in a tumor that students of First year medicine
Will exclaim at and find a Complicated name for.
This is nothing anybody will sing Songs about, for it is no pearl That I wrought from the invasion Of my body.
No good will come off my Proclaiming #MeToo.
©Hema Gopinathan Sah 2018