The sea is begging for mercy,
the moon echoes its pain at night,
each sunset - a mantra to mother earth,
“You can do this, you’ll survive.
The soil, the trees, the ocean to the highest peaks,
an army against the thieves,
who took this land and made it bleed.”

Oh no,
he did it again,
undressed another woman,
as she begged him no,
while her head spun to a different world,
she pushed him away,
her fingernails grasped at his skin,
she whispered,
“please…. stop,”
but he didn’t listen,
not a single soul would listen.

She’s all alone,
stripped of her dignity,
her spirit pushed down the drain,
as he entered inside her,
her heart beat faster,
but her body was numb,
she couldn’t feel her arms,
or her legs,
her fingers lost all touch,
and her voice screeched with pain,
she’d never cried so much yet felt so little,
as her body stopped,
and her soul tried to escape to a better place.

But truth is it doesn’t always happen in this way,
with a firm “No” and attempt to get away.

Sometimes he’s kind and sweet,
or powerful and famous,
he’s your teacher, mentor, or friend,
the love of your life,
or a one night stand,
and you uncomfortably say “No”,
“Maybe not now”,
“I don’t feel like it”,
“Maybe you should go”.

Yes,
sometimes we scream “Please No”,
but other times we drown under the waves in our ears telling us it will end soon,
or
we fall into the sound of our body begging for forgiveness for letting another human take a part of us away.

As he touches you,
and you pull away,
after the hundredth time you’re so weak,
so violated,
caving like a prisoner pushed to the edge,
laying numb and senselessly wishing for your last breath,
as your body is fumbled,
and your heart tumbles,
your honor and morality thrown to the floor,
stomped and spit on as your words become worthless to another person's soul.

Drugged or drunk,
sober or young,
you’re futile,
as your body becomes his,
and what once belonged to you is stripped,
and slathered in pain,
then thrown aside like a bad book and never looked at the same,
but his life doesn’t change,
and all the things you used to love become a reminder of what once was.

The feeling of his hands on your hips,
imprinted on your skin like a tattoo you can’t laser off,
a lifetime of what should’ve been,
but will never be.

“What can I become when his face is all I see when I think of;
love, lust, or even my own sanity?
Where does the healing begin when my body’s just become an empty limb?
What will my friends and family think?
What can I say when the world won’t even believe the rich who’ve paid the same price of insanity for the man who took their dignity?
It took him just a few minutes for me to feel this pain everyday,
So who’s going to believe me when I say by raping me he took my life away?”

The ocean,
oh it looked so blue,
shades of colour swimming around like clouds around the moon,

The water,
oh it looked so clean,
but it was just the sun's reflection making it clear,

Underneath the waves lay a graveyard,
a promise of death,
a promise of extinction,

Tombs made of plastic,
slathered in oil,
steaming with toxic waste,
and all the people know,

The damage is unfolding faster than we are evolving,

The turtles are ingesting plastic as if it were their only meal,
begging for their fins to just be free,
so they can dive through the sea,

The seals are tangled in nets, lines and lures,
plastic bags and packing bands,
till they're tied to their grave as if life were just a brief phase,

The seabirds skim the ocean waves for fish and squid,
yet plastic is their only catch of the day,
leaving them broken inside and out,
and dead on the beaches we claim are our own,

The whales are submerged beneath the sea,
eating most things that they see,
plastic, plastic everywhere beneath,
not giving them much time before they can no longer breathe,

The dolphins are gliding through the sea,
taking what they can to eat,
plastic as their only meal,
tearing them apart from within,
leaving them starving for weeks,
till the grave is the only thing they see,

Us humans are so weak,
we can’t see how deep the pain seeps,
but when nothing is left for us to eat,
and the rich have nothing left to steal,
we’ll end in the same graves as all the lives we could have healed.

And I’m ******* in ropes,
oh so many ropes,
knotted in pain across my body,
tangled under my skin,
tickling my veins,
oh the blood rushes,
it rushes through,
I feel so much,
every prickling touch,
but at the same time,
I barely feel a thing.

I’ve scarred myself by hurting you,
I refused to eat your food,
speak your language,
hold your hand,
and live life in your way.

I just wanted to fit in,
to be accepted by the others,
be liked,
be invited,
be laughed with not at.

I never realized I was abandoning myself,
until I stood on my own feet,
searching for myself,
searching for meaning,
searching for a purpose to live.

I never felt so lost,
as I do today,
trying to remember,
trying to recreate,
trying to find myself again.

What would it feel like to delve my fists into the wall,
and not feel a thing.
Would my heart burst into flames or flowers?
Would I gush out blood or glitter?

I’ve always said that I feel nothing.
I am numb and I am fine,
but my heart is filled with butterflies,
and they feel every lie.

I’d never want to stop feeling.
Numbness is a dark place,
and my heart is so much kinder in the sun.

I’ve never really seen myself smile,
or maybe I forgot how.
I’ve been stuck in a storm for as long as I remember.
Black clouds guide me from above,
sometimes I see the sun peak out,
but I’m blinded by its path.

So I linger under the darkness,
and wonder what it would be like, to be the wall,
And not feel a thing,
to blend like milk into the blandness of everyone's day,
and eventually disappear.

My heart feels numb,
I’ve lost all motivation for anything I’ve ever done,
or maybe it’s just laziness,
God, I’m irritably bleeding out my gums,
biting down my lips till,
gashes, gashes.
What have I become?

Knuckles bleeding,
but I’m numb,
I didn’t see the cuts increasing,
my fingers might fall off,
along with my mental stability,
which has run off.

I can’t think anymore,
I just don’t care anymore,
gashes, gashes,
my wrists are bleeding,
I didn’t see the self-destruction,
but I’m halfway in my grave now.
What have I become?