' Give the act a name or it never happened '

 

Which is to say...

Nobody comes running to young boys who cry 'rape.'

When I told my brother about it, he also asked why I never fought back.

As if fists are stronger than fear.

As if silence isn’t the only language trauma speaks.

The station officers demanded I give the act a name or it never happened; and so I sang 'rape' that day, with a cracked voice and trembling hands, but they only heard noise, not truth.

When my sister's seat at the dinner table got frequently unoccupied, nobody thought of it.

When the class diva turned all her teases to constant tears and started missing classes, they never asked why.

Instead they invented new ways of making themselves laugh.

Called her dramatic. Called her broken. Never called her loved.

Nobody cares about that eighteen year-old who cries rape.

Nobody 😢

Not even the mirror that watches him fall apart in silence every night.

© amimoh