i place
a blank mask
over my face
and hand you
a pen

am i pretty now?

I was abused as a child
Now as an adult
I crave for it
Like a pregnant woman craving pickles and peanut butter

I look for around every corner at 1 am
Short skirts, crop tops, 50F degree weather
I know houses that are unsafe for girls my age
Should I knock?

I look for it in the mouths of men
Men who were older than me
A reputation I wish I didn't have
But I do

I look for in the alcohol I drown my liver in
The boys liked to party with me
I was able to shoot whiskey and *****
No need for fruity drink or wine coolers

I look for it in the rolled paper I puff in his garage at 4am
With red eyes and foggy head
The only time I actually felt safe

I look for it in the pills I've popped at parties
Honestly, I have no clue on pills I took
I didn't care then and don't care now
Wish I was still 15 and dumb

Why is abuse addictive?
I wanted to escape it
I escaped it

I am looking for it
I want it
I want the fear
The bruises
The screaming
The pain
The everything

Who am I without the Abuse?
Am I even a person without it?
Is that all I am good for?
To be used and abused.

I remember
Back when I was a freshman
My friends an I went to a varsity football game.
One of my friends brought along a friend of hers.
God
I will never forget the way he looked at me like I was nothing but a piece of meat
I will never forget how he smelled of Axe cologne and McDonald's.
We all were sitting in the bleachers, and he insisted that he was to sit next me
Fast forward to the middle of third quarter
Our school was in the lead
21 to 0
I remember the score exactly
Because
That is when I felt him
Ever so slowly
Place a hand on my thigh
I felt my body stiffen
My breathing quickened
My mind was full of warning sirens
Like the ones that scream before a tornado.
Every part of my frantic mind
Was screaming:

RUN!
GET OUT!
NOT SAFE!

But my body was frozen
Non responsive
To anything.
The burning sensation
His hand created
As he inched it up my thigh
Toward a private place
A place where a boy once touched
Without consent.
As if
His hands were allowed to freely roam
My body
A body that once was free of bruising
Scars
Memories
This boy at the football game
He let his hand get too close
To close to a secret place of mine.
Without a single thought
My closed fist connected with his left ear
His hand left my body as if he realized
That I was tainted
ruined
damaged
Broken
I could hear the group of seniors
Behind us let out strings of

"OH"
"****"

Along side their howling laughter.
My friends all screamed at me

"**** it!"
"What the hell is wrong with you?"

I let them scream
And blame me.
For all
They didn't know
That for six years of my life
A boy who was suppose to protect me
Snuck into my room
Every
Friday night
And left his mark
On a body he claimed as his.
They didn't know
So I can't blame them
right?

When I got home that night
I stripped off all my clothes.
I turned on the shower
Boiling hot
Climbed in.
I scrubbed
And scrubbed
And scrubbed.
I scrubbed until my skin was raw.
I scrubbed until parts of my skin bled.
But
One thing I have learned
Over all these years
Is that
No matter how hard I scrub my body
My body will remember
My body will forever feel the hands of
Boys and men
Who thought my body was opened
To the public touch of their muddy hands
And beer stained mouths
When I went to bed that night
I had on four layers of protection
...
I meant clothing
I had on four layers of clothing.