Some would flinch,
Some would scream,
Some would run,
Or fight,
Or beg,
Or plead,
But I didn’t.
I just sat there.
Quietly,
Obediently,
Disassociated from the reality of what truly happened.
Who could blame me?
I was a child,
But so were you.
Only you are 4 years older than me.
4 years smarter,
4 years wiser,
4 years to hone your secrecy and manipulation,
But instead of protecting me as family should,
You hurt me,
Traumatized me,
Scarred me.
Not with words,
But with hands that grip, grope, and wander,
With words convincing me it was my fault
“You didn’t fight back”
“They won’t believe you”
“You did it too”
“They’ll think your disgusting”
“What can you do? My dads a cop.”
And now your dad uses his status to protect you,
The criminal,
Not me,
The victim.
Offer legal advice of
“Don’t speak without a lawyer”
“Keep your mouth shut, don\'t confess anything”
Protecting the one thing he’s fought against for years,
But your his blood,
So who can blame him?
But that didn’t stop you, did it?
Didn’t stop your wondering hands,
Or manipulative words,
But I was just a kid.
I was 9 while you 11 when it started,
But you couldn’t just let this be a one time thing could you?
No, no.
It went on for 3 years.
I was 11 and you were 14 when it ended,
And I was 14 when I finally remembered.
It then took me 2 months to tell anyone in the family,
But I didn’t tell my parents first,
Because you convinced me I’d be “disgusting” or “dirty” in their eyes.
I told my siblings and a cousin.
But now there\'s a weird tension at every family gathering
An unspoken mistake,
The way people keep us from being alone.
No words said,
But you still linger around me,
Still try to get goodbye hugs,
Still try to talk,
But they know how your hands would wonder now.
And I will never forget.