By Nana Brantuo
Does my presence make you uneasy?
Does my story force you to face truths and realities you’d rather ignore?
You see, I’ve lived my life
Recalling that day
Remembering that hour
Jumping at the touch of foreign hands
Shivering meeting unfamiliar eyes
I can’t seem to understand who plays the greater role?
All four of which conspire against me
Taking steps and plotting schemes to silence me
1) Telling me it’s my fault
2) Ridiculing my clothes and character
3) Reminding me that my body is not my own
Remembering him grab me
Muffling my screams
Ignoring my objections
One No should have been enough.
No should not have been necessary…
All a painful reaffirmation that the body of a woman is unsafe in a world of binaries, bigots, and bystanders
Remembering the pain of his unwanted entry, his hands around my neck
Gasping for air
Begging and pleading
Crying and bleeding
Remembering his silence…
And the cold feeling that swept over me as I felt the blood creeping down my thighs
And tears sliding down my cheek
Counting the days, months, years it took to look at myself in the mirror without seeing the words
Whore and slut
Over my head
Check out Nana’s Tumblr- Neoafrican