FEMININE RAGE
(Trigger warning: SA)
there is a viper in my womb
i started bleeding yesterday, the heaviest in years
'get this fucker out of me' i think
a few days before this, i stared at the police report on the stand
the viper strikes, i cannot see the page
"Read this Ms Mellor"
i am 19 again, i can feel him behind me
the room spins, she is getting what she wants
i'm cracking and turning to dust before the court
"Is this an accurate account of what you told police?"
my body dissolves and i am catapulted to a nightclub
it's 2009 and my drink has been spiked, i am out of it
i want to throw up, i can feel the burn on my leg, the terror in my chest
where am i going on this motorbike? blackness.
why are we talking about this now? why am i on trial?
i came here to protect women from yet another violent man
and here i am, paying for it
a public execution, a witch on trial, burning
"Well?"
i remember the male detective's eyes, beady and suspicious
his colleagues milling around the aura of my fear, puncturing it with doubt
their words said what they needed to, their energy everything else
"Court cases can be long, arduous and more traumatic than this, go home, get therapy"
they were right
seventeen years later i am sitting facing a judge, steeped in regret and rage
punished for being a victim
for being blessed enough for it to have been more than once
a naive, trusting girl with hearts in her eyes
engaged in the seductive dance between predator and prey
my heart crashes against the walls of my ribcage
i am drowning
she is yelling at me still, i can't hear what she's saying
i’m not allowed to tell her the real reason it took me a while to report
she knows this… bitch
"Are your daughters proud of you??" i want to hurl back at her
i have to stay composed, this is what she wants
i can't
he is sitting there, smug and assured i can see it
charming men are believed, authentic women are not
i tried to protect other women from him, i failed
the system failed all of us
i stand with my ancestors behind me and silently scream
into the nothingness, into the light and beyond this life
what does it take? to be believed
for men to face consequences?
for women to feel safe?
you tell us to report, to keep ourselves off the streets
he was my friend
i didn't expect him to invade me, to trespass where he was not welcome
to make me feel afraid, to make me bleed, to deny it all
another woman attacked at his hands, the line was crossed
i trembled in front of the female detective
"I don't want to ruin his life" i cried
"HE ruined his life"
but i wonder now three years on, did he? did i?
these days, i fucking hope so
i sit there, exposed, a skeleton on a public trauma tour
my guide, a female defence lawyer dragging me through the mud by my hair
an imperfect victim, a jury unable to hold nuance, a lost cause
three years gone from three minutes of violence
out at sea in protective limerence, a pregnancy, a loss, burnout, maiden to mother, emotional abuse, heart break, freedom, self-love, healing, alchemising it all… and four trial dates
not guilty.
the words fall into the pit of my stomach and swiftly back out in a dry retch
memories fade and change, but my body knows
she always will
she knew what fear i held then, and she knows now
i am reminded every time i am touched by a lover, i touch myself
shame, humiliation, rage
pleasure takes a backseat for the purging of pain, until it heals it
the validation has to come from within, the healing, we all know the drill
but when does the protection come from without?
when do we stop gathering the pieces of ourselves back from men and start holding them to account?
the law protected this promising young man from a ruined life
congratulations
he is free now, emboldened to ruin as many women as he pleases
the viper curls again within my cervix
i must protect me now
the law does nothing for women, that much is clear
something shifts, hardens within
i refuse to lose my softness, the juiciness of my eros and my light
it is mine, and to guard it i have become stone fruit
enough of being nice, understanding, accommodating, nurturing where it is not reciprocated in kind
a discerning sword replaces my spine, slipping in with a satisfying sharpness
enough is enough
this is a moment of reckoning
not just for me, but for all of us
the mothers, daughters, sisters who carry their own viper in their wombs
who bleed out in courtrooms while our predators sit comfortable, clean
women asked to heal quietly, while they walk free loudly
we are the providers and protectors we have been seeking
no one is coming to save us, they would have by now
the silent men, the not my mate, he’s a good guy, simply a mistake
it's time for women to remember our true power
not some bullshit goddess circle of surrender, the full spectrum
show me how you can break the spells they cast on us
open your ears to the earth, she has endured the violence of man
root in
if we are enemies to one another we are weak and they win
remember who you are
our lives quite literally depend on it
give ‘em the hell they’ve created for us
it’s time, stand up, fight back
there is no point speaking kindly or asking please, when the only language spoken back is violence
look into the eyes of another women and see deeply we are all the same
she is you, you are her, and it’s time to remember who we are
remember who you are
remember who you are.
