What was your name?
Talk to me, Dear Child. What was your name and where were you going?
Dear Abused,
I hate that your name is replaced by an event. I hate how your whole story becomes ‘before abuse’ and ‘after abuse’. I hate how someone who doesn’t live in your heart now has a space in your mind, memory, ambition, and self-identity. I hate it so much it pisses me off when I see your tears.
How someone can alter the trajectory of your whole life by saying constantly hurtful words or use your body against you has got to be more than law-breaking; it ought to be a form of witchcraft. In one day, how someone can in 1 day, change the way your body receives love, trust, friendship, and great sex.
It will be forgivable if the goats knew how to apologize but even if they apologized, what difference would it make? Your vagina will always keep the memory of a forceful entry, so will your mind recall every negative word ever spoken.
To make this worse, there are people out there who will never let you beat your own name; people who want to run initiatives on you to get grants sometimes, people who will shame you to feel like they have a better life than you, people who will try to abuse you hiding behind the old record, people who will try to ensure you never stop believing you’re a victim.
I am asking you your name? Tell me your name, Dear child.
Before the abuser slammed punches of words into your body and battered you from inside every orifice, what was your name?!
Before society shamed you and told you “it is your fault”, before they gagged you up and said forgiveness = silence — justice, what was your name?
Before your own people became too ashamed to be associated with you, what was your name?
Dear Child,
Where were you going in life before this catastrophe hit your soul and body? Before the world interfered with your journey, where were you going?
Talk to me, Dear Child. What was your name and where were you going?
