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WHEN WOLVES WEAR COLLARS
<p>THEY CALLED IT DISCIPLINE,I CALLED IT SURVIVAL </p><p><br/></p><p>They told me to pray,</p><p>So I bowed my head </p><p>Not knowing wolves wore collars</p><p>And preached from pulpits.</p><p><br/></p><p>They said come forward if you’re broken,</p><p>I didn’t know coming forward</p><p>Would break me more.</p><p><br/></p><p>He pulled me into his office,</p><p>Said it was God’s work.</p><p>But his hands weren’t holy.</p><p>His hugs weren’t innocent.</p><p>And my silence wasn’t consent </p><p>It was survival.</p><p><br/></p><p>I said no.</p><p>With my body, with my eyes, with every step I took backwards.</p><p>But power has a loud voice,</p><p>And fear makes your voice whisper.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then came the threats.</p><p>The lies.</p><p>The chaplain with a collar and a price tag </p><p>“Sleep with me,” he said, “if you want your name clean.”</p><p>As if purity was his to sell.</p><p><br/></p><p>I kept my shame in my mouth.</p><p>Because if I screamed,</p><p>They’d say it was my fault.</p><p><br/></p><p>They did anyway.</p><p><br/></p><p>They gave Me the stain.</p><p>Me the punishment</p><p>for what they did.</p><p><br/></p><p>But I survived it.</p><p><br/></p><p>And now I write.</p><p>Because writing is what I have</p><p>When no one believed my voice.</p>
WHEN WOLVES WEAR COLLARS
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Zarah Writes
Zarah Writes
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