my second most read poem.
recording over 1000 reads.
with 0 likes,
in 3 collections I added it too.

the title.
is the reason there are no likes,
and the fact someone can't like a poem about *******,

when I talk about how they had lost their respect,
compared to any girl out there,

makes me feel less and less confident about the fact,
someone acted on my body like that,

for someone to be not only ***** but then physically abused,
and trying to spread the news

to show you what it does to a girl,
how gross you feel to look at yourself when ur mom wants to hurl,

where u lie when people ask you about your burn,
because you feel the torture will come back.

where you let anyone grab them.
because your blessed with triple D cups,

and at least you feel like you're not worthless,
and  because I named it grab my *****,
I dont Care,
I got no likes,

Like a boy gave my body,
No respect,

I think thats as fair to say as what he did to me,
as it's as fair to know I have a little over 800 views on the poem below,
and 20 likes.
about trauma too.
I don't get how this all adds up,

I got poems written about the same exact thing,
with 2, 3, 4 likes, not even 400 views some barley 200!
all about being ***** and abused,
but how come this one,
had been ignored,
and overlooked,
a ******* name,

thats cowardly
like a ******,
like an abuser,
were not one person could give someone respect after it was all taken from them,
and they wrote about it.
I just..

I'm an independent woman
She said
He reached out and she took his hand
I know
He said

I've never needed anyone else in my life
She said
He pulled her closer
I know
He said

I've got this, I can handle it myself
She said
He put his arms around her
I know
He said

I have lived this long alone and well
She said
They embrace tightly, no space between
I know
He said

Don't ever let me go
She said
Kissing him, they breathe each other in
I won't, ever
He said

You feel what's not there,
Or,
Not feel what is.

I loved of milk stains from overflowed cereal bowls,
like too much love was the problem with you and I,
and not that you didn't grab a bigger bowl,
for all the love I wanted to pour out.

but like stains they fade away,
into backgrounds becoming nothings,
of somethings,
that were all once one thing,
worth the energy of the other side of what used to be,
but not everyone gets to be blown away by you,
others will do away with you,
leaving you.
to fade into the tables and become one,

you look at what you once had,
new milk fills the bowl never overstepping in things of love,
overspilling the love,
like you did,
and you'd cry if you weren't dried out.

and you look,
at what happiness they both have,
something you wished to of haved for the both of you,
and it tears your heart in two,
and you may cry on the inside,
but find it in your mind
that your heart may be broken,
but you need to let them fly,
and love,
for you couldn't love right,

and in that moment,
you shut your little milk stained eyes,
the right way to die,
is with tears of forgiveness,
and to remember and move on from the past,
and as you release a single dried out tear,
all of you fade into the background as if you were never there,
leaving no trace,
but your single dried out milk stain tear,