Specs

It’s a wonder how my specs remind me of the men in my life,
My father always asked me to remove them before every strike,
My brother asked me to take them off,
“Show off those beautiful eyes.”
The man who stole my innocence,
Would pull them off and push them aside,
Before forcing my head…
So that he didn’t have to feel the plastic digging in his thigh,
I wonder if he felt my tears once I realised,
That the disgust and fear I felt were alright,
The police officer made me take them off too,
To examine the bruises and scan my eyes,
My best friend,
The first man I trusted outside family after that,
Would always let me leave them on,
Knowing bad memories with the separation reside,
Was it fair for me to have to hide my beautiful eyes?
Was it fair to feel ugly with the specs on,
And without them terrified?
I remember how I panicked,
The first time I inserted a contact lens in my eye,
And yet as I walked the street,
Nervous and shy,
People pointed at me,
Making me run and hide,
I was always the little girl who got raped in their eyes,
And somehow they placed the blame with me,
But was that right?
I wish I could go back in time,
And tell myself to never enter that room,
Scrub the hands off me,
And erase the little girl who used to be me,
But is that right?
To be stuck in a spiral,
Of others’ misdeeds?
And now there’s someone I love,
Who always asks,
Before he pulls them aside,
Till we both just fling the specs aside,
Next to one another we lie,
Looking into tired eyes,
And I realise,
For the first time in a long time,
I am not nervous about putting my specs by.
-Anjali.