She was raped, by her husband

My mother married me off because she wanted me to be safe
Now I feel more scared to stay at home.
In this “own” house I feel like a slave
Never thought I would feel better be alone.

After all, my consent never mattered
I was so tired and just wanted some rest.
For him, our moods were so attached
About me? Ah, my tiredness was just a jest.

I told my parents about it, they simply laughed
They said if anyone heard this, they would make such a joke of me.
He is your husband, why would he need consent they asked
And here I was expecting them to say come to us whenever you want silly.

I searched up for what the law would state
In India, marital rape wasn’t a criminal offense.
Little I knew that reading about the law would only make me abate
After all, for it wasn’t even that immense.

I was stuck in such a plight
I kept thinking my “NO” might make me a bad wife.
Not knowing if I was even thinking right
Who thought my “NO” didn’t even matter in anyone’s life.

Isn’t it easy? Rather than raping a girl walking down the street
Rather than being called a rapist and getting imprisoned for years.
You marry her and without her consent you make your hunger complete
Keep on ignoring your wife’s denial, you don’t have to fear.

To whom am I supposed to tell this?
What am I supposed to feel?
Am I supposed to show people that we are living in wedded bliss?
I don’t think the feeling of not being respected would ever heal.

Yes, I wanted to raise my voice
I wanted to scream out how I was dying.
But staying quiet was the only choice
For the society just stated I was lying.

I lost this battle for my freedom
Accepted it was my responsibility.
Accepted I had to stay happy with a demon
Here I am in my own house in captivity.