by Bb. Maria Klara
Never mix business with pleasure, they said.
After what was done to me, you were ruled by the wrong head.
The notion escaped me, that my body’s not a toy,
Yet I learned from an old man, that boys will be boys.
I own blouses and blazers invaded by your hand,
Leaving scars I can’t see, but feel and misunderstand.
You have instilled in me, a new kind of fear,
Now I don’t know if I can let another man come near.
Some days, I remember, and I wish that I’d burst
like a bubble, ‘cause I hate how I let it all slide at first.
Just a poke, just a pinch, just a joke and a tease...
Backed me into a corner, compromised, I freeze.
Just a job, but I couldn’t face myself in the mirror;
Emotional or psychological, I can’t name the terror.
Until now, I don’t find the strength to self-forgive.
As I scribble these words, I don’t know how I still live.
Did I really put up with it just for the pay,
Only to lick my wounds at the end of each day?
My own silence was deafening, I sank in the horror.
This chapter of my history, now just bones in a drawer.
While Maria Clara never escaped Padre Salvi,
I escaped you and from now on promise that I’ll be
Never again speechless, and live out my truth.
There will always be devils who prey on beauty and youth.