Aberrant Maia

Men Can Be Raped Too

Black man staring into a distance

She was my next-door neighbour
Always bringing freshly baked bread to our house
And before she left,
She would cover my hand with hers
And leave some money
in my previously empty palm.
I trusted her.
There was no reason not to.

It was a Thursday evening,
I had come back from school.
My parents were still at work,
And I’d forgotten
to take my keys to school.
From behind her thick curtains,
She saw me and beckoned,
“Stay in my house as you wait for your parents to return.”
I obliged.
There was no reason not to.

I entered that house as a naïve boy.
I emerged as a scarred and bitter beast.

My mind constantly replays
scenes of that fateful day:
Her lewd grin;
her caresses;
her legs shaking
as she reached an orgasm.
And then there was me:
Wide-eyed and bewildered,
Hurt and confused,
Semen pouring forth from my manhood
But with no pleasure attached to it.
The feelings of embarrassment,
guilt and worthlessness
Gripping me when it was all over.

It has been over twenty years
But the memory
is permanently seared in my mind.
My therapist tells me to “forgive.”
Forgive? Forgive?
Haha, I think the fuck not.
Everytime my girlfriend
gets untop of me,
Flashbacks of a sixty-year-old woman blinds me.
But how can I tell her?
So, I endure her riding my penis
Because I don’t want to be seen
as less of a man.

Now, I live with the bitter truth,
That men can be raped too.

Let me tell others about this:

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