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May 2013
He grabbed me from behind,
Gagged me so I couldn't scream,
He took what was rightfully mine,
Tied me so that he was supreme,
Then he left me lying there,
No food or water,
Just me and my despair,
Was I awaiting slaughter?
He came back the next night,
And then he did it again,
An agonizing rite,
In my mind, I vilified all men,
"If just one would act this way,
Then they all could,"
Is what I say,
Why he did this, I thought I understood:
Men are evil and with no self control,
They are selfish and cruel,
To gain his own pleasure was his only goal,
And even though he called me "his jewel,"
I knew it meant nothing,

When I was found,
When I was freed,
Nothing was ever the same for me,
My story did not astound,
The officials and police,
For it's not the first that they'd seen,
"Why don't you stop it?"
Was my demand,
They said that they couldn't,
They said that they can't,
They can't prevent it,
That made me frustrated,
And I blamed the men, for they're the ones who narrated,
This insane explanation,

But no one believed in my accusation,
They all thought I was crazy, so they locked me away,
Then they sent me some "help,"
However, they shouldn't have sent,
A male my way,
I tried to rid myself of the whelp,
He only wanted to supplement,
His bank account,
**** the man,
To him my story did I recount,
And my reasoning did I explain to him,
Day after day, he tried to change my mind,
And through this treatment grim,
Did I fume with undefined,
Rage and frustration,
Then one day I let it out,
I verbally lashed out at him,
I shouted at him,
I screamed at him,
Then I slapped him across the face,
All was silent,
He seemed stunned,
Then my mind began to race,
And I apologized for my violent,
Act against him and I asked,
For forgiveness,
And somehow,
I don't know how,
But in some way he,
Most candidly,
Forgave me,
He shrugged it away,
Said that he was fine,
It was okay,
He got up then,
And left me all alone,
So I lay awake,
On my bed all night long,
The next day he came back and when,
I saw the bruise I had left on his cheek ,
And heard his voice and its kind tone,
I hid my face in my hands,
My eyes filled with tears,
I broke down crying,
What was this creature who defied all my fears?
He was not a man,
Not as I knew them to be,
But maybe he,
Is an exception to my rule,
So when he sat beside me and asked me, "What's wrong?"
I looked up into his clear blue eyes,
And I lost control,
I grabbed his shoulders and kissed him,
I know it was on a whim,
But I wanted to see,
Just exactly how he,
Would react to that,
. . .
And that was that,
He really did love me back!
I told him that I only trusted him,
No other man could touch a single limb,
He laughed and said that was fine by him,

We got married shortly thereafter,
And we lived almost happily ever after,
Except that I never left the house,
And I never truly got over my fear,
I treated any other man like a louse,
But my love did I hold dear.
I wrote this at one in the morning. That's why it's so . . . weird. Originally posted on my AllPoetry.com account. [username: birchstar97] I marked this as explicit since it *is* a **** story.
(No, this is not the voice of experience, thank goodness!) For some absurd reason, this was actually a lot of fun to write! Especially the part where I vilify all men. That's not my honest opinion about men, but it was fun to write, anyway.  I know this is more of a story than a poem, and the meter and rhythm are pretty bad, but I don't really care, so don't bother telling me. I have no idea how this ended up happy. Maybe there really is an optimist way deep down inside me.  Or maybe I'm just a creepy sadist who needs help.
Rosalind Hawkins
Written by
Rosalind Hawkins  America
(America)   
518
 
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