Where I Broke First

Shhh… “don’t you open your mouth,
Say something ever…
I’ll rip your tongue right out.”

That’s where it started.
The breaking.
The silence.
Family hatred,
circling again and again.

Cousin first.
Big hands.
Creeping over little skin,
touring my body like sin never ends.
And I’m stuck…
wondering where truth begins.
Do I bury it?
Do I write it?
Or swallow it again?

Silence. Secrecy.
Not protection. Not pride.
Just childhood, 
snatched,
robbed,
left to rot inside.

That yellow floral sofa,
bay window wide,
still haunts my nights.
I can’t shake it.
I can’t hide.

Then came uncle.
Different hands.
Different rage.
He choked me into silence,
pillow to my face.
“You don’t belong.
You can’t sing.
You’re ugly. You’re weak.”
Every word,
another blade in me.

Who would believe?
Nobody heard me scream.
One took my body.
The other crushed my voice,
my dreams.

So I built my walls.
Sharp.
Barbed.
Guarded.
Trust was dead
before it ever started.

Why can’t I hug you?
Your arms look like his.
Step too close,
I shrink back to the kid.

Healing?
They preach it like gospel.
But tell me…
what’s truth
when nobody believes you?

“Why she so snappy?
Why she so cold?”
‘Cause nobody saw
the hell I had to hold.

I was my only anchor.
My only breath.
Hit after hit.
Choke after choke.
Til I prayed for death.

Blade to the wrist.
Letters written…
dismissed.
Everyone missed.

Grateful for the few who tried,
but nah,
I ain’t heal,
I just learned to survive.

Silence.
Secrecy.
That’s the script we’re taught.
And the only peace I ever found…
was the kind pain bought.

~Kae Jaye