The Appearance of Love

There were times when being forced
to participate in relationships with men
which had the appearance of love
didn't seem like rape to me
as they savagely ravished my entire being
disguising it behind romantic notions –
just another way, I was told
to safely explore their emotions

In my excitement as a child
with fragile thoughts it took me a while
To confirm the absence of love in these encounters
as hands beat my body black and blue
to make me produce
My mental survival depended on
putting distance between what I saw as me
looking through the windows of their eyes at my body
and yielding until I grew old enough to fight back

My elders, who saw my abuse and turned away
witnesses to the rage on my abusers’ face
still I was forced to stay in that place - called home
surrounded with family, all alone

When I had children I declared
that they wouldn't live in such a nightmare
they would be able to live and be free
of abuse, unlike me ---
they would know real love


TJ said...

I am speechless...a tear falls for the young women who had to grow in a garden of weeds.

Amias said...

You are so right about that TJ, and sadly this is still happening today.

Thanks for taking the time to comment.

Anonymous said...

your poem draws emotions of sympathy as it tells of a tale that many would like to turn a blind eye to.