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One hundred to five to one to one no one They don't need your apologies Come around the stand and say that to my eyes you don't see They don't crave verdict driven "sorry"s nailed to a cross by a stone gavel Burn that haunted cross As the hearts and souls of the teaming wish they could do again trying to stand against definitions of self definitions of manhood little girl, only thirty-three years old silenced in fear, silenced by fear as the confident voices blow into her ear 1...2...3...4...5 times two a grip that claims, that yells, that demands a redefinition to the meaningless phrase I love you. Three months--- screams are muffled in horror, quieted verbals ringing where only one can hear Seven years---body is sliced by knives as she looks in the mirror and sees a human hole. How can you live, how can you say that you know that everything will be all right with time Who gets time? Not ninety-nine thousand demoralized, demonized, unrecongnized, set free with a fine, or gone undefined alltogether as Fear's closet of nails confines a million ostracized and mortified unable to band together thank you judicial priority. One hundredth of abusers given time two years later out again But one hundred-thousand others hear you tell them how to heal a womb ***** unsacred, how to stand against a beast stripped naked, how to quickly turn a limb placated before it comes down to bruise her swollen rainbow skin. And you justify a girl ripped open entered in agony, her ***** broken the first time she was eight years old the hundredth time she was nine. And you sympathize as the sad man cries behind the podium how can you not understand that no means no no means don't no means stop stop means help me. He understood that he understood and he disregarded every being on this rock for his own sick pleasure I care about you. he said to himself Where were you when she got drugged in a bar Where were you when he was ambushed by orange Where were you when her husband refused to hear her terrified words Where were you when they pleaded to anyone Please please please please, Oh God make it stop Now where are you behind your news desks, your podiums, your microphones, and your clipboards when they risk their lives to ask for justice when they cry out for the safety of their daughters of your daughters only so child souls aren't slaughtered as they are thrown into a system that insists they are not good enough. A system of blow-up dolls, of pop songs, of stripper poles defining a woman as only a hole. He stole my innocence You stole my dignity. You stole my dignity, you stole my daughter's, my granddaughter's, sister's, aunt's, mother's when you insist that the fix is covering my body shielding my ****** and saying no. No is what I say to you No is what I say to your apologies, your sympathies, your pities She shouldn't have to get down on her knees for him or for you You say you've seen everything Maybe you've seen everything Films, shows, the **** scenes of everything But you have not experienced everything And I pray to God that you have not done everything But as far as I know, you haven't done anything And legs and mouth and hearts will be torn open as hope is stripped from the holy bodies of the screaming unspoken over and over and over again Ninety-nine thousand lives you do deprive where were you when she died terrorized when the judge whispered 1...2...3...4----
0
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
Little Numbers
One hundred to five to one to one no one They don't need your apologies Come around the stand and say that to my eyes you don't see They don't crave verdict driven "sorry"s nailed to a cross by a stone gavel Burn that haunted cross As the hearts and souls of the teaming wish they could do again trying to stand against definitions of self definitions of manhood little girl, only thirty-three years old silenced in fear, silenced by fear as the confident voices blow into her ear 1...2...3...4...5 times two a grip that claims, that yells, that demands a redefinition to the meaningless phrase I love you. Three months--- screams are muffled in horror, quieted verbals ringing where only one can hear Seven years---body is sliced by knives as she looks in the mirror and sees a human hole. How can you live, how can you say that you know that everything will be all right with time Who gets time? Not ninety-nine thousand demoralized, demonized, unrecongnized, set free with a fine, or gone undefined alltogether as Fear's closet of nails confines a million ostracized and mortified unable to band together thank you judicial priority. One hundredth of abusers given time two years later out again But one hundred-thousand others hear you tell them how to heal a womb ***** unsacred, how to stand against a beast stripped naked, how to quickly turn a limb placated before it comes down to bruise her swollen rainbow skin. And you justify a girl ripped open entered in agony, her ***** broken the first time she was eight years old the hundredth time she was nine. And you sympathize as the sad man cries behind the podium how can you not understand that no means no no means don't no means stop stop means help me. He understood that he understood and he disregarded every being on this rock for his own sick pleasure I care about you. he said to himself Where were you when she got drugged in a bar Where were you when he was ambushed by orange Where were you when her husband refused to hear her terrified words Where were you when they pleaded to anyone Please please please please, Oh God make it stop Now where are you behind your news desks, your podiums, your microphones, and your clipboards when they risk their lives to ask for justice when they cry out for the safety of their daughters of your daughters only so child souls aren't slaughtered as they are thrown into a system that insists they are not good enough. A system of blow-up dolls, of pop songs, of stripper poles defining a woman as only a hole. He stole my innocence You stole my dignity. You stole my dignity, you stole my daughter's, my granddaughter's, sister's, aunt's, mother's when you insist that the fix is covering my body shielding my ****** and saying no. No is what I say to you No is what I say to your apologies, your sympathies, your pities She shouldn't have to get down on her knees for him or for you You say you've seen everything Maybe you've seen everything Films, shows, the **** scenes of everything But you have not experienced everything And I pray to God that you have not done everything But as far as I know, you haven't done anything And legs and mouth and hearts will be torn open as hope is stripped from the holy bodies of the screaming unspoken over and over and over again Ninety-nine thousand lives you do deprive where were you when she died terrorized when the judge whispered 1...2...3...4----
This poem was written to be slammed, focusing on the revolting ignorance of the justice system concerning cases of ****** abuse and **** It may be triggering.
sage-king
Written by
English
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
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