I have been searching for a reason;

was it my hair,
my face,
my waist,

as he grabbed me by the wrist
and pulled me towards
his pulsing body

was it my hips,
my ****,
my lips,

as he stood before me
one hand, ******* my shoulder
a ***** mattress beneath me
covered in the seeds of my
shame, my hate, my blame

forever changed, one half of
my head is a Hell no one else
will ever know, ever see,
ever understand

**** is an ugly word
yet, too simple to express
what is taken, stolen,
lost, in that one act

four letters that sit together,
like every other word
in the ******* dictionary

yet they are strangled with
barbed wire, each vowel
choking, each consonant
begging to be heard,
to be seen, to be
believed

I have to believe
that I can grow
from a rotten
root

or else drown
in a pool
of my
tears

and fears