Growing up, I was taught that
****
was something
that only happened in
dark alleyways
and
I was taught that
rapists
were creepy old men
who didn't get any.

I was taught that
depression
was something that happened to you
when you got really old
and you couldn't see as clearly as you could
when you were younger
and
your fingers shook a lot.

I was never taught that
38% of rapists
are

friends


and I was never taught
that being *****
would affect you
for this long.
I wasn't taught
that being *****
would leave you feeling
guilty.
No one ever told me
that being *****
would leave me with this feeling
that would slip under my fingernails
and
leave me feeling emptier than the stem of a picked flower
that's still stuck in the ground.

No one ever told me that having
depression
would leave my body with an empty hole
that
all the flowers in the world
could not fill.

No one ever thought about telling me that in the past 46 hours,
201 people have successfully ended every
connection and communication
with everyone they have ever known.

201 people have left their family and friends, jobs, houses, pets.

201 people have left beds
that will never be slept in again,
and shoes
that won’t be worn anymore.

No one ever told me that in the past 46 hours,
3,076 people have fallen.
Hard.
3,076 people have fallen victim
to little orange bottles with white child proof caps,
they've fallen victim to the pain that rushes through their body
when they slice through their skin,
3,076 people have heard the click when they pulled the trigger
and have felt the thin white plastic vacuum itself closer and tighter
against lips
that are getting paler, and paler.

But thank god, thank god
no one had the courtesy to tell me that sometimes
you get a second chance.

Out of those 3,076 people,
2,075 will survive to see another sunrise.

No one ever told me that.