it’s hard to believe
just a few seconds of your life
could lead you in a different direction.
whatever it is has the ability
to affect how you think,
alter your lifestyle..
you look in the mirror and are unfamiliar
with the person taking the place
of your reflection.

from the moment
his hand landed on my thigh,
my life forever changed.
like everything i knew up
until that point had been deleted,
suddenly rearranged.

not a single minute will be forgotten
from that dreadful day.
however within this poem
i will try my best to convey.

words cannot begin to describe
the person i thought i knew.
but my goal is to express
the horror i once went through.

i was gestured to an opened door
which led to a dark basement,
filled with strong smells of laundry soap.
looking down to check my phone,
i told myself i’d be home by 10:30,
or i would hope.

hesitantly
i continued down the carpeted stairwell.
the house was quiet, unusually still.
it seemed as though not a soul would dwell.

if i’d any clue what was bound to happen,
i would’ve planned a great escape.
but little did i know a part of me
would be robbed that night...
little did i know
this was my fate.

all was well at first,
until the silence broke.
“if you want me to bring you home,
you have to do me a favor”,
were the last words he spoke.

my eyes filled with confusion,
and his filled with lust.
i felt helpless,
knowing my purity was being stolen,
with each and every ******.

i stiffened
every muscle in my body,
attempting to keep the warm drops of water
from stumbling down my face.
it took everything in me
to not meet dark, soulless eyes
and shoot him a firm look of disgrace.

his hands were hot and clammy,
his heavyset athletic built
leaning over me.
his pupils were wide and alert,
but not attentive enough to hear my plea.

face pushed
into an old and dusty couch,
neck cuffed roughly by the hand of my
predator.
in my view was a wendy’s cup
filled with sprite
sitting on a stool at room
temperature.

the longer he was in me,
the more i felt my body had been injected
with filth and dirt.
i was too late to realize his intention was deliberate,
it was now clear and overt.

i found slight humor
in the fact that a **** bag
is all he’d ever be.
the only thing he seemed to accomplish
in his life,
was doing me.

tears of sweat
from his forehead gleamed down at me
like a desert sun.
i prayed for an interruption whether it be a knock, a phone call-
but there was none.

the room was humid and heavy,
the odor of refusal and neglect mixed
into the oxygen we breathed.
while I was left in utter devastation,
he pulled out rather pleased.

in fast motion,
i grabbed my clothes and stood
in the corner waiting for him
to get finish getting dressed.
i looked around to distract myself,
for the past half hour
didn’t leave me anything
but distressed.

but the joke was on me,
he headed back to the couch,
not a single hint of sympathy
on his face in sight.
the glance he gave me made it evident.
he had lied to me.
he had planned to keep me
overnight.

from midnight to dawn i was a puppet;
nothing to him but a shiny, new toy.
being held captive
by a person whose name is now
sickens you,
could never be an experience you enjoy.

it is because of him
every night fail to fall asleep.
laying up in bed.
thinking of how my innocence
is no longer mine to keep.

what others imagine in their worst possible nightmare,
is my gruesome reality
that cannot be undone nor repaired.

i have the sweetest smile,
that beams between my nose and chin.
but it is only me, myself and i
who know the truth about
his deep secrets within.

i have the most humblest eyes,
that have witnessed more than they should. though nothing changes,
i have cried more delicate tears
than anyone ever could.

i have the kindest heart,
sooner or later i learned that it came
with a cost.
this kind heart has felt
the worst of pains and experienced
the greatest loss.

dark days are necessary,
just as important as the rest.
for if we didn’t have the worst,
we couldn’t recognize the best.

- d.berry