at a young age,
i learned no one’s safe
when he pulled my tiny frame close,
tugging on my hair,
and not letting go;
i ripped away,
yet failed.

his tongue slithered down my throat,
his hands were cold and hard as stone
against my exterior,
endlessly taking and taking,
and in that moment,
i was numb,
toes frozen,
the screams held within
and arms sewn to the bed
beneath his feet.

my body is stolen and
tainted with his
poisonous sins
gripped within my skin;
i am unclean.

i still feel your eyes trailing along
my abdomen,
burning into my soul,
and your lips bruising my own
as you pressed down harder whilst
fondling every inch of my figure
to no avail.

twelve years later,
with red eyes and a foggy head,
i sleep alone,
fearing that ill drown
in my own sheets.

it was “me too” whom let the devil
consume my innocence
until i was light-headed and limp.

i’ve given up struggling and surviving
for i knew that after that night
i would never be free again,
because,
why live when there’s
no more of me to own?
why fight when i can just die alone?

i’ve left and there’s no going back.