“His Secret” A Poem by Nighina Rahimi
Her hand falls across his back,
His skin paints blue and black,
Scrapped, cut, bruised, scarred, cracked.
Her screams make the room shutter,
A prayer is muttered,
Hoping he didn’t stutter.
Degrading him and putting him in dirt,
Watching as he whimpers, hurt,
Hollow under the blood-stained nightshirt.
He never knew of her assaulting ways,
When he vowed to everlasting loving days,
To cherish her through thick and thin and never stray.
Everything changes when the doors are closed,
Everything is different when nothing is exposed,
Everything was left, unopposed.
The pain flowing across his cheek, concealed by the fragility of masculinity.
Alone, hidden by shame and lost from sincerity,
Hardly listened to, hardly heard, no sympathy.
He wants to run and hide, scream out a name,
But he screams silence and hides in his shame,
And his future seems like an empty grave.
Would anyone understand,
Would they give him a helping hand,
To escape his past dreamland.
Expectation to be the man,
To be the strongman, muscles galore and power in his hold,
Not the one that ran to cover in times of fear.
Well, the wounds no longer let him meet the expectation,
There is no makeup to cover these damnations,
He remains pent up with frustration.
Frustration because he knows no one out there will believe him,
They will misperceive him,
And leave him without compassionate relief for him.
Like a fish, half-dead from flopping,
But almost crawling,
Views can change, freedom might be a possibility.
But then she tightens her grip,
Making sure he doesn’t let anything slip,
About her cruel, demeaning lip.
His grave is dug deeper day by day,
The secret is stowed away,
He can’t breathe, 6 feet under the decay.
The pain will linger on his skin,
The bruises won’t diminish from within,
Her maltreatment continues for him.
So, hidden away,
Under her grip, unspoken of the abuse, he stays,
Praying for the bright sunlight of a new day.
Society judges the same,
She remains insane,
Hope is losing its name.
His hope is diminished, rotting away,
Leaving him empty without the faith of any change in the societal ways,
Left, misunderstood, to take his secret to his grave.
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This lyric poem “His Secret” by Nighina Rahimi captures the taboo of domestic abuse facing men and the fear and judgement when wanting to speak up. The poem focuses mainly on the theme of gender stereotypes and their negative consequences and the societal expectations and how that can impact how we see and define ourselves. Her poem attacks the question, “Why do people feel the need to conform to society and its expectations?” She points out the difficulties and struggles for men that deal with abuse. Aside from the fact that they are being physical and emotional harmed, society can be one sided. The stereotypes begin with the expectation that men have the control over their woman. They have possession and strength. When you hear about abusive relationships, the mind always think first that the woman is the one in trouble. A man abused never comes to mind. These stereotypes and expectations created by society become problematic because more than 40% of domestic violence victims are males in North America, and they all fear seeking help in fear of being mocked and judged by a society who doesn’t understand this is a possibility. They don’t see men being abused as a possibility because it is so unheard of. The issue she shares using well-chosen words help enlighten others to the serious problem that is concealed by many men out of fear. Nighina refers to the video “Miss representation,” another informer of the cruel effects of stereotypes and how fragile masculinity can be and how that and the stereotypes can be problematic.
When he doesn’t learn how to walk right away, they try harder, it won’t work though. I’m keeping his growth slow and his muscles weak, one childhood milestone forever lost. He won’t learn how to speak until he is 8, starting with a couple of simple words here and there. His parents worry and always keep consistent watch over him, never knowing when he will hold his breath and when he will faint. He will be forever dependent, the poor kid doesn’t have any control over this. He develops scoliosis. Any sort of dream in sports is lost when they realize, after he starts walking a little, he can barely hold himself up without losing balance.
He cries to his mother and begs her to have it stop, to make me stop. He is short, speaks funny, sweats too much, he can’t taste food due to having lost his taste buds, he won’t stop drooling, he is skinny, he can’t sleep, and oh does it continue. He becomes sick of it, sick of the taunting from his classmates for being different, sick of the hospital visits. He wants me gone, like I am a virus or bacteria that can be treated, he doesn’t realize I am part of him. There is no treatment for me, I am his battle to fight, and his battle to lose.