Scrolling down my feed

For the first time, I didn’t feel alone.

I felt I could relate to someone,

Even to people unknown.

Because as I read through,

All the stories they had to tell,

I knew I had lived those stories,

And seen all those fears dwell.

I had come across the demons

And still kept quiet,

Because the society scared me more,

When they labelled me wrong or right.

Maybe I wasn’t raped,

Still my dignity was molested,

But apparently if it isn’t physical,

The crime isn’t even attested.

No. My clothes weren’t ripped off

And yes, nobody heard my cries,

But as he traced the contours of my body

With his shallow prying eyes,

I felt a part of me being crushed

And torn apart into bits.

My honour had been harassed,

My soul was in the blitz.

But no matter how wrong they were,

I never had the courage to speak for myself,

Because people prefer to judge the victim,

Rather than help.

And just like mine,

I believe there are a million other tales that are still untold,

Leaving behind a shameful trail,

For the society, as they await to unfold.

So Now that finally someone spoke

About this social issue,

The only thing I want to tell is

Yes, #MeToo.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s