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zeta May 2017
She owns the taste of your lips
Your goosebumps belong to Her.
Her hands slide down your hips,
the rest of the story is a blur
because I closed my eyes
and dreamt again,
that maybe by surprise
you two wouldn’t be more than friends.
I couldn’t watch the way She held you,
I tried to numb the pain.
My hands turned a grey hue
and on my white t-shirt, it stained.
I thought I had forgotten.
I thought I was fine.
But She tugged on your cotton,
you were Her’s, not mine.
Then with your brown eyes, you looked at me,
with Her arm around your waist.
I start to drown in the sea,
my flooding body aches.
So this is where I make my bed.
Where I struggle to breathe.
As the water rises to my head
and my heartbeat doesn’t seem to retrieve.
zeta May 2017
He brushed her hair off her shoulders
He skimmed his fingertips across her neck
He traced her freckles down to her low collared blouse and slowly unbuttoned his imagination
He had seen her body before, he practiced where he’d place his hands
Yet He told her
“it's the beauty on the inside that counts”
she felt secure knowing that
He let her believe all he wanted was her
out of innocence and ignorance she believed that she was good enough
She was a package deal: kind, funny and intelligent
yet he saw her as his five course meal: mouthwatering, dainty, sexually elegant
The edge of his lips quivered at the thought of her
but He wanted more than the mirage of her figure
He couldn't stand watching from afar
so he decided to get closer
closer than she was used to
grabbing her arm, he yanked her body against his
politely she tried pulling away
but his grip tightened and his lust heightened
he tore her shirt simultaneously ripping her dignity
her skin turned cold as reality kicked in
where she felt like something, he reminded her she was nothing
he left imprints on her body where hands shouldn't be
he unraveled her clothes when she expected him to unravel her soul
she wanted trust, so she could finally open up to him
yet by force he opened her legs and took something without asking
yelling out “no” didn’t help
he tugged her hair and said “do what i say”
she shivered as she wept and tried to crawl away
his words stung her face
she burnt red with tears in her eyes
unmindful of how heedlessly painful his spank would be as a “surprise”
This poem is my contribution to bringing about awareness for violence in intimate relationships. Stop abuse, grow up

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