I need to write this. I feel I am in grief now, and this is my kind of prayer for survival.
Cry for the baby born into silence. Cry as she hear all light being taken from her.
Cry for the child as she see her stepdad is staying. As speakless she knows she is scare of him.
Cry as I show the first rape. Look at the silence of the child as in the dark, pain stop her breathing. See his large fingers inside her smallness. Cry as the bed get wet with red of blood. Wet with the yellow with her fear. See the grey dead sperm left dead on her bed.
Cry as as pushes the sheet under the bed. Tidy away all evidence.
Cry as the child stares into porn. Seeing her future laying crushed in her hand. Seeing pain screaming from the pages. Seeing eyes dead from stopping hope.
Cry as you see her alone on the streets. See her break milk bottles to force blood. It reminds her she is still alive.
Cry as she said to her mother. I hate my stepdad, he hurts me. Only to hear – don’t get pregnant.
Cry as you see queuing outside that club. Cry as you see her turn into a robot.
Cry as you see her gang-raped. See her leave her body. See her lose any sense that can be a future.
Cry as she turn into a sex object. See her have her body treated as experiment for every sick sexual fantasy those men had.
Cry as all her emotions die one by one.
Cry as she felt love, only to have it taken by the violence of men.
Cry as she refuse to lose her intelligence, even when it place her in danger.
Cry as she stay alive by pure hate and anger.
Cry that she was so alone.
Do all this crying. Cry hard. Cry long.
And then say we honour you.