#pet-rich-or

You touched my hand My heart felt your fingers caress it

You spoke to me Your words curled around my thoughts

You smiled at me My favourite memory was replaced

Sitting here alone, on my own bed,

I don’t feel safe.

Leaning on the seat of our car with my seat belt on,

I don’t feel safe.

Feeling your hand in mine, walking through beautiful paths,

I don’t feel safe.

Closing my eyes, afraid of thoughts and dreams,

I do not feel safe.

 “Father arrested for raping his six year old daughter”

I look at my eight year old little sister

I want to cover her ears, her eyes, take her away

As far as possible

But how far is far?

How far is far enough?

Where does “far enough” exist?

It doesn’t.

I don’t feel safe, I don’t feel safe, I don’t feel safe.

I will never feel safe.

She will never be safe.

 Feeling those tiny hands slipping into mine

Those cute adorable words tumbling out endlessly

Huge eyes telling millions of stories

Remembering Apuchchi say “it’s a nangi!” at 9.19pm

On the 4th of August

I felt excited, happy, ecstatic, terrified.

My most prized possession was no longer a thing

It was a she

A tiny, tiny, innocent little she

She was not safe.

I was not safe

She is not safe.

I am not safe