Take me down,
Into my grave,
Sing me to sleep,
And give me prayers,
To call myself home,
But he won't hear his name,
Being called from my grave,
So I kneel and weep,

So, Take me down,
To the sea,
In a watery grave,
I will lay,
As you feed me tales,
Of his everlasting love,
I called his name,
But he's not home,
So I kneel and weep,
Under the sea.

Take me down,
Into the forest,
Where time stand still,
I will stay, standing quietly,
Listening for his voice,
Among the trees,
And I call my name,
Through the trees,
But I am silent.

Take me down,
To the sand,
Let me see where I am free,
So I follow the footprints in the sand,
Because my lights are fading fast,
I don't need, his breath to stay,
In order for me to stay alive,
I slam the door and fall to the floor,
Calling his name.

i have to show the world that what you three did to me only scratched my surface,
only took off the shiny layer of myself that i had previously perfected for the eyes of society’s critical audience.
but you didn’t.
you’ve broken my soul
and torn my heart
and punctured my lungs
and i’m finding it harder to live and breathe every single day.
people think that the pain caused by an experience like this lives and dies in the moment that it happens,
but those people are sincerely wrong.
it's been three hundred and twenty-seven days since it happened,
since each of you violated me
and took advantage of me
and abused my right to consent.
but i bet you didn’t know that those days equate to seven thousand, eight hundred and forty-eight hours that it’s been on my mind
and i bet you didn’t know that the nightmare is now burned into my skin
and flowing through my blood
and coded into my dna.
the constant feeling that my body is no longer mine will not leave.
the feeling that i’m missing a part of myself is going to stick with me.
the feeling that my heart strings are severed,
that my lungs have burst,
that my legs can no longer carry the weight of my newly found burden
and that my life has been tainted by your evil touch
will never disperse.
these feelings cannot be brushed under a rug,
but i’ve got to appear like they can to the outside world.
do you know what else hurts?
what also hurts is that this trauma,
the same trauma that is making me want to end my life,
constantly hoping that the last of my heart strings will break so that my heart can plummet to the depths of my destroyed soul to lay with my sanity,
is being used to mock me.
as if my life could be forced into further submission without the teasing and bullying of my peers.
thank you,
to the three boys that took my innocence,
turned my meaning of the word ‘no’ into ‘yes’
and made my body into a lighthouse as a guide for the devil.
he’s found me.
you’ve broke me.
you win.

... to whisper sweet nothings into your ear long into the night.
... to journey across the globe in search of an ocean as deep as my love.
... to hold you in my arms while vowing never to let you go.
... to kiss your tender lips with my own.
... to envelop your long brown hair between my fingers.
... to glide my hands across your body.
... to drive a thousand miles just to be closer to you.
... to glide through the clouds by the sound of your laugh.
... to nudge my nose against yours as our foreheads touch.
... to climb every mountain, canyon, and cave just to rescue you from peril.
... to bend down on one knee and ask you to be with me for all of eternity.

I'm a poet who has no idea
How to write poetry
I don't understand meter
Or metaphor
I just write what I feel
And try to explore