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 Dec 2013 Corinne
Camden
Sometimes when we're alone, she touches me,
But not just touches me,
She grips me
But not just grips me,
It's something more,
Like she's trying to hold on to the very last thing that means anything to her.
A grasp so tight that I can't break free,
Her fingers trap the flesh beneath.
She squeezes as if she's going through the worst pain known to mankind,
And I know that deep down, she is.
She holds on as if letting go would mean she'd fall off the face of the earth all together
And I know that deep down, she wishes she could.
She grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut,
Tears peek out of the corners.
I know what she's thinking about.
She's thinking about that night, three years ago.
She's thinking about the stale smell of cheap alcohol on his breath,
She's thinking about the paralyzing fear that pulsed through her body as she tried to resist,
She's thinking about how she doesn't understand why for some people,
The word "no" just doesn't cut it
She's thinking about how if maybe she hadn't had that last drink,
Or worn that tight dress,
Then maybe it would be different.
She's thinking about, "why me"
She's thinking about, "when will the pain stop"
She's thinking about how she wishes that she could just stop thinking.
But instead, she touches me.
But not just touches me,
She grips me.
 Nov 2013 Corinne
paprika
It's been nearly two years since he abused me, used me
but it seems to me his deed is something I now carry with me
he poured concrete into my heart and let it harden into darkness
at night I still feel the fight and I scream from the sharpness
my veins are now a garden where his weeds are sown
my bones are hollowed out and my mind is overgrown
all I ever wanted was to find a home within
and now I'm left bereft, my fragile heart split.

We tend to give ****** abuse a single definition
that for it to count physical ******* is a given
but for me, four years of conditioning to be the perfect victim
meant I didn't need any violence to lie there in submission
restrained by chains of denial, drugged by the promise of love
my body pulled below while my mind floated above.

Only I can't help wondering through it all
if I somehow caused this man's downfall
that maybe I revealed a little too much
so I had to yield to his hungry touch
that if I had acted in a different way
I wouldn't have been suffocated with this pain.
The truth is victim shaming is rooted so well
that the victims often blame themselves.

It took me so long to realize the flaw,
and draw my own conclusions,
that it wasn't what I showed, but what he saw
that gave life to his delusions.
 Nov 2013 Corinne
Emma
Untitled
 Nov 2013 Corinne
Emma
It's as if you have seen my soul
And still adored what you saw
As if you witnessed me at my worst
And still wanted to hold me tightly within your clutch

*please don't set me free, I'll wither away
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