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Rayne Victoria Apr 2020
You know, it can get rough sometimes.
Sitting in my room with dark thoughts destroy me sometimes.
I find that I can smile on the outside, talk to people, feel fine,
But what people are receiving is deceiving--
I’m not actually okay.

I feel so outside of myself all the time,
I try to ignore everything but it’s so overwhelming when it takes me hours just to devour my mind,
Climbing like a tower,
When I have no power left,
Just so I can fall asleep.

I can hardly sit in a room full of people--
Even if it’s a steeple full of people--
The place where I should feel most comfortable,
I find myself paranoid,
My thoughts like an endless void,
And all I can think about is what these people must think of me.

“Get over yourself,”
“Be happy,” they say,
But what they don’t know is that I feel like this every day.
Something just seems to get in my way and it chooses to stay,
And no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to push it away.
I try to find the motivation just to speak,
But this weight on my shoulders makes every muscle in my body feel weak.
It’s like my mind is broken,
A word unhead in the dark,
And I’m crying out loud as I can and I’m trying but no sound is coming out of my mouth.

People ask me why I can’t eat when I’m so clearly hungry,
But nothing I say could help them understand what it’s like to be starving but your body can’t stand the taste.
It’s as if the flavor like that razor against your skin
Reminds you of the exact thing you wish you weren’t:
Alive.

And nothing could help them relate to what it’s like to be called a fake--
That it’s all in my head,
Something I can easily mend,
But no one could get what it’s like when insomnia’s your best friend,
A friendship you just want to end,
Just like the pain in your brain
Because nothing is worse than feeling like you’re going insane.

But if there’s anything out of this that can shed some positive light,
It’s the fact that I’m not the only one putting up with this fight.
And though the struggle feels like a war at the core--
A fight not worth fighting for--
It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

And that’s the thing we need to all tell ourselves at night--
When the demons come knocking on our doors
It feels right to just let them in,
But that’s just it:
We can’t let them win.

We need to take a step back,
Step off the tracks,
Just derail from the trail that you’ve been so hopelessly following
Like an embrace from a faceless face that’s telling you
This is what you deserve
When you know deep down you don’t.

You deserve better--
We all do--
Find that hope deep down inside--
And it’s okay if you need help.
Don’t be afraid to reach out or scream out
Or let it out like an inferno that’s been smothered by your
darkness.

But most of all just know that you’re not a burden.
You never were.
And you never will be.
And remind yourself of that especially when you’re withering.

Hold on for a moment longer,
For there is a light at the end of every tunnel,
No matter how long.
It may seem like forever,
But just remember that every day is another step forward--
Another step closer.
Apr 2020 · 517
Washing Machine Safe
Rayne Victoria Apr 2020
I must be easily mistaken
For a coat on a plastic hanger
Because nothing has been more familiar
Than the way I’ve been used,
Selected finickly from the men’s section
And worn until I’m ruined.

They expect me to fulfill their needs
And take on all their elements
And if I get a little *****
I’m just thrown in the wash
So I can be used again.
Oct 2018 · 265
For You
Rayne Victoria Oct 2018
Have you ever sat in the dark in your room at 3 in the morning,
Wishing you could just escape from that dark cloud busy forming?
You walk to school with a smile with a mask on your face,
And no matter how hard you try you can’t help feeling out of place.
These parts of you you can’t understand but you wish you just could,
But instead you plug in headphones and hide beneath the jacket hood.

Have you ever had the thought while sitting in the dark all alone,
Laying on your bed and yet saying to yourself, “I just want to go home”?
And the hurt eats you away and your anxiety caves in,
Still you cover it up the next day, cover it all with the same grin.

These words are for you- the ones that feel there’s nothing left,
To give you hope and let you know it’s not time to give up yet.
There’s still something great out there that’s just out of your reach,
But it’s getting closer, you’re getting stronger, you must not accept defeat.
Pain is only temporary and I know that it can feel like forever,
But your potential is more than this even the worst things get better.

I take it you don’t believe me- think this is just another rhyme,
Trying to motivate you and convince you differently this time.
But this one’s not like the others because trust me I would know,
Even I have to push myself up sometimes when I’m feeling extremely low.
I know exactly what it’s like to feel the worst pain- the burden of life,
To want nothing more than to sit in the quiet and slice skin with a knife.
To be crying for hours naked and shaking, soaking in a tub,
Trying to feel something real as you watch your arms boiling with blood.
And not a single day goes by where I don’t think the worst of thoughts,
But it’s possible to get through like me- I refused and I fought.
Those thoughts don’t have to define you and the feelings are nothing more
Than devils knocking persistently, you just don’t open up the door.

People may not understand and try to change your mind like it’s easy;
I know it’s not but with determination you can, believe me.
This isn’t what’s meant for you, you still have so much more,
Your life has only started there’s still so much more in store.
It’s hard to find hope I know because I’ve struggled too,
****, I still struggle and sometimes feel there’s nothing more to do.

But just know you have a friend in this fight, you’re not on your own,
I may just be a stranger, but my words are all too well known.
I hope when your heart is aching and you feel like the only one,
You can remind yourself of your beauty before picking up that gun,
Or picking up those pills, that rope- don’t let these thoughts banter,
Pain is only temporary- don’t end it with a permanent answer.
Oct 2018 · 1.9k
Prison
Rayne Victoria Oct 2018
How dare society make us women feel like
Our very own bodies is a prison,
To be locked up behind the metal bars of our *******,
******* by the chains of our curvy figures
And the sentence lying between our thighs.

And the sentence is brutal.
Consent is no longer existent
When the *** is too tempting for a man to say no
And for you to say no.

Our butts slapped,
Chests groped,
Cheeks pinched,
Thighs squeezed,
In this prison we had the decency to call our own body
We are handcuffed to the degrading appetite of a man.

Women are not a display of things to touch
We are not a dessert menu for a man’s hunger
To be ordered by catcalling:
Want a taste of a woman’s behind?
**** that ***-!
A taste of ****-
Oh, baby, put on a show for us!
Or just the full course meal-
Hey girl, ow ow owwww!

It is about time we strong women break free.
The jailor of men- I stole the key.
It is about time we change out of our prison uniforms of
Bikinis and mini skirts and stilettos
And break down the locks that confined us.

Our prison sentence is just about up,
And when we are let loose,
Us women will no longer stand for such debasing behaviors.
And when we’re free,
It’ll be time to teach the men a little lesson

This cage of our body does not define us, boys,
Maybe try finding the prisoner behind the bars-
Her personality,
Charming smile,
And brilliant intellect,
Instead of demeaning our existence,
Objectifying our importance-
We are not your tools, your toys.

We are humans, too, you know,
With- get this- feelings.
Try manners and kindness rather than
Feeling and groping your way to a woman’s heart.

We are not a play museum- we are the artifact,
The masterpiece- Mona Lisa, Starry Night, the Sistine Chapel-
You must stand behind the red velvet ropes and perform
What the English language calls respect,
With a thing also known as consent.

This- my body- is also known as my body,
It is not his, it is not hers, and most importantly,
It is not yours.
Please try to understand this- I know, it’s super complicated.
And if you gain anything from this, let it be this:

We are not here to satisfy you-
Women are not prisoners to a man’s every need.
We are not objects- no-
And we deserve to be heard.
Oct 2018 · 1.3k
Blurred Lines
Rayne Victoria Oct 2018
What does one do when the lines of the meaning of love are blurred for a girl at the age of fourteen?
When a girl is pinned down to a bed even though she said
No
No
No
But let it happen because she thought that was how relationships were supposed to be.

Maybe he didn’t listen because I’m wrong
This is meant to happen
I’m his girlfriend.
I should be okay with him groping me.
Stop being so uncomfortable.
Stop squirming underneath his grasp.
Stop trying to pry his fingers off of your breast as he laughs at your struggle.
He’s your boyfriend.
He loves you.
This is okay.

It must be okay
Because the pattern continued.
It must just be love when your boyfriend tries to touch you in untouched places while you’re trying to sleep
At the age of fifteen.
I’d never been touched there before
I’d never even touched myself there before.
And I had never felt any more uncomfortable in my whole life
But who was I to say
No.
It was love,
Right?

And it wasn’t assault, right?
Surely I- a young, normal girl- didn’t become a victim of ****** assault
Right?
I didn’t say no.
I was too scared to say no.
I was too scared that the words
No
No
No
Became lost in my mouth
And my eyes were stuck shut because they were too scared
Too see the kind of  love he was giving me.

And I wanted to leave but I couldn’t
Because love is supposed to be this way.
I never had a physical experience showing otherwise.
This must be love
The lines are not blurred.
This is how it is.

For a moment I thought that maybe
I wasn’t wrong.
That this repetition of touching
That this lack of approval
Was wrong.
My body is my body
I’m not found strung on the shelves of *** shops
Or delivered in a package with a bow on top
Spread across the table for a man’s full course meal.
No.
I am a person
And just because I have ******* and curves and a vulnerable physique does not mean I am up for grabs--

He told me he loved me
But if that was love that was no love of mine
And I told him
No
No
No.
I exposed him
I may have been in tears but I told him I knew everything that he had been doing to me and I called out his love

And he
He
Did not apologize.
He did not explain himself to me.
He just told me that
It was okay.
I was okay.

Because that’s right.
I am nothing
I am nothing
How silly of me to think otherwise
How silly of me that I almost forgot that I am nothing more
Than an object for you to touch how you please.
Who needs sleep
When the man can’t wait
For you to wake up
For consent
For you to yell
No
No
No.

Because who am I to say no?
May 2018 · 605
Electricity
Rayne Victoria May 2018
His voltaic caress courses through me
As his fingers bloomed into flowers
And his breath a soft breeze on my skin.
His voltage electrocuted me
My confidence amplified as the words
Rolling off his lips
Found my ear
And charged my veins
When it reached my heart.
Skin on skin like no other magnetism
A breathlesss sensation
From such an opulence of love.
His true electricity so overwhelmingly paralyzing
So overwhelming that my desire
Had devoted to hydrating itself
Under the waterfall of his affection,
His current perilous but phenomenal
As it coursed through my liquid love.
And no other contingency could execute
The inadequacy and animosity I held from myself
For the lightning that struck from his heart
And radiated from his hands
Convinced me otherwise.
A galvanism so tremendous
Emitting when the crevice of his lips
Closed around my neck
And up to the roses blossoming from my face
Igniting
A spark.
May 2018 · 199
all i want.
Rayne Victoria May 2018
The shadows of your body
Reflect off the walls of my memory.
My crimson hands, my old friend
depression sitting down beside me
In attempts to console me.

But I still see you in everything I do
I see you inside me even when I try to escape this living hell we all call home
And all I ever want is you.

All I ever need is you.

But the flowers that once bloomed up my throat
Now wilt at the absence of your touch
And I've realized my only escape from the pain is the person who's escaped my grasp.
May 2018 · 558
This is Me Trying
Rayne Victoria May 2018
Some people think it's easy.
That if you just tell me to smile I will and that I will genuinely mean it, too.
And I try to mean it- believe me, I try.
I try to find a hint of happiness inside of me and force it out.
I tried.
I tried to do the things that normal and happy people do
Because maybe if I tried I could convince myself that I, too, was a happy and normal person.
So I tried.
I took myself out to dinner.
I tried yoga.
I went to parties, and even though I can't dance, I danced anyways and made a beautiful fool of myself.
I finally bought myself a lava lamp because I've always thought they were cool.
I organized the clothes in my closet by color.
I spent twenty minutes picking out the ripest tomatoes in the grocery store.
I took up crocheting,
I learned a little French,
And I forgot all about this mess of a life I'm in by making a mess in my kitchen.
I sang in the shower so loud and proud that I lost my voice.
I went cheese tasting,
And I drank A LOT of wine.
I made faces at every person I drove by on the highway.
I started going on walks.
I started going on runs.
I ran to the balcony
And stepped on the ledge
And threw my arms out beside me
And screamed YES!
I'm free! And I'm so happy about it!
I'm happy.
I promise you I'm happy.
These tears, they are just because I'm so happy and my sadness is crying because it's gone.
I'm not sad anymore.
I'm normal. I'm happy.
I'm just like everyone else when they go to art galleries.
I'm actually looking at the art really hard and trying to find the meaning behind a red squiggle rather than just really trying to avoid people from seeing the pain.
I'm actually just a normal person that's perfectly content when they go wash their hands instead of a person that dreads walking up to a faucet and catching a glimpse of their reflection.
I'm actually a normal person that stepped onto a ledge to feel nothing but freedom rather than feeling a desire to take another step.
I'm actually ok and I'm so happy.
It's what I whispered to myself at night
Because I thought that maybe if I told myself it enough times I would eventually wake up one morning and find it to be true.
That I'm ok. I'm happy.
That's what I want to convince you because maybe if you're convinced...
I'll be convinced too.
Sep 2017 · 589
Him.
Rayne Victoria Sep 2017
My body trembles at the last time we touched
Our last goodbye before you walked away
The intense warmth assimilating through our bodies as we held each other,
Chest to chest.

And the days feel like weeks
And the weeks feel like months,
And the tears I've wept for you to come home has dehydrated me of your love.

But your paradisiac image followed me
Wherever I went
Your addicting smile was lodged there
Your exquisitely magnificent hazel eyes were there sitting next me
Your voice was in every word I spoke
Your thoughts in every word I wrote.

Your palliatating touch haunted me
Every waking moment
The simple thought of you made me feel like I couldn't breathe,
Although I've never felt more alive.

And I can feel the salty tears on my lips
But all I taste is our last kiss
The feeling of your hands against my skin,
Your heart pounding like music next to mine.

And I sit here now
Wishing for nothing more than just to hear your voice
To give only a few minutes to tell you
How much I miss you,
How much I love you.
Sep 2017 · 360
Scars
Rayne Victoria Sep 2017
Count my scars
One, two, three
Each represent my mistake
These scars represent me.

Count my tears
Four, five, six
Each show my flaming pain
And what I cannot fix.

Now look at my scars
The bright red flesh
Do you see survival, hatred?
I see nothing but regret.
Sep 2017 · 554
Artificial Happiness
Rayne Victoria Sep 2017
I'm your very own
Tablet of artificial happiness.
Because apparently
You're not capable of doing it yourself.
But it's okay, just swallow me
And I will fix you chemically.

You'll still be broken
But for a while
I'll make you forget
Because with me you'll have no choice
But to smile.
Don't be mad, just swallow me,
I'll get rid of your anxiety.

I don't always work
But I'm not perfect, of course
Just like you.
For that's why I'm here after all.
Your brains mis-wired but swallow me,
And I'll fix that... temporarily.

I understand why
You don't want to take me
Since you want
Simply to fix things on your own.
But give it up and swallow me,
Because no way you'll fix it naturally.

Because without me
You'll be as lost as you were.
Back in the beginning
Of a dark life you don't want to live.
Because admit it.
If you don't swallow me,
When in your life will you ever be
Happy?
Sep 2017 · 474
Broken Reflection
Rayne Victoria Sep 2017
This mirror must be broken
For I don't like what I see
This mirror must be fractured
Because my face seems broken, too.

This mirror must be unfixable
For the cracks only expand
This mirror must be crumbling
And I can feel myself crumbling, too.

But the mirror isn't broken
It perfectly reflects back.
And I am the only thing that's broken.

I'm the only thing unfixable.

— The End —