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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem highlights the hypocritical society we live in, where rape is often okay when committed inside the boundaries of marriage.

Submitted: September 04, 2018

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Submitted: September 04, 2018



It was the first time you touched me and my inner being felt a burn instead of the familiar electric feeling.

The rage I felt searing through my skin was not rage at all, but something far familiar.

I always knew you liked to be dominant in bed and I can't deny that I sometimes enjoyed those moments of submission,

Overlooked those moments as those of submission.

For when you forced yourself into my mouth, my very being, I mistook it for your wanting to own me.

I let myself feel like a gift when you wrapped me with your body, for that's what I wanted my mind to believe when all you really did was cage me in your small world.

Your small world of small thoughts that seemed like my sole reason of existence.

I shrug off my cries as moans, when all I felt was an unnatural pain that was nowhere near pleasure.

And I let this go on.

Let this violation of my spirit go on in the name of a relationship.

I let it go on in the name of making love.

And on the first night of marriage when you said you own me legally now,

I thought you were proclaiming your love to the world with the sound of the Shehnai ringing, clamoring louder than my thumping heart.

And when you put a hand on my mouth and unwrapped me not like a gift but a slice of prized meat;

I realised what I let you do to me all this time and how I could find help for it then.

But not now. Not anymore.

For it was in the name of blasphemy then that I could seek help for my abuse.

But now I belong to you.

I'm your lawfully wedded wife.

And there's nothing deemed wrong when you butcher the lamb you acquired with your hard earned money.

There's nothing wrong with what you continue to do to me anymore.

It's not rape anymore.

It's sacred now. It's marriage.

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