I’ve been trying to heal on my own, trying to heal from the night you forced yourself into me. The night I turned on myself, lost who I was. My body, a foreign and distant being. She wasn’t mine anymore, you had ripped her from my grasp, refusing to let go. As much as I try, I’ll never have her fully back.
your greedy hands are no greedier than mine, as your fingers travel past my waistline, thinking that i’m about to waste my time on a man like you, “too good to be true,” kinda borrowed, about to be blue. my greedy hands will clench, as i lean closer on that bench, ignoring your disgusting cigarette stench. “i’ll break your ******* jawline if your hands don’t leave my waistline,” and you didn’t waste time
it’s 2:37am and i went to a bar for the second time in my life on my own volition, and a guy grabbed my ***.
I'd rather live a lifetime alone, because being a woman is so vulnerable. We fragile flowers with beautiful petals that everyone wants to pluck it doesn't matter what the flower says if their mind is already made up. I could never trust another man and god knows, I don't want to. When all they've ever done is take from me but for some reason, never you. You took me by the hand and asked me if it was okay, you put me in the light and for the first time I felt safe. But, I did what I do best, I went and I pushed you away, so I'd rather live a lifetime alone. because I can't trust a predator as prey.
The first time it happened I was 5 I was lured by candy as children are All I can remember is hands and pain And being told to not remember And I when I speak on it All I can hear is familial silence And stares that tell me to not speak up at all When CPS came knocking on the door I covered for him. My mom asked me why Why I didn’t tell her all these years My response was simple: I did the first time it happened It continued still, you were drunk after all I wasn’t the first he did it to And I’m sure I wasn’t the last It’s weird to tell people to not joke about ****** It’s weird to tell people my first experience was when I was five It’s weird to tell people I remember It’s weird to pretend I don’t
The second time it happened I was 15 With my first ever boyfriend I was out cold, and he did as he did I don’t remember much, but this He’s checked my pulse and he bragged For months I didn’t realize what happened I could not register what it was I told my mom, I could see she blamed me I could see trust wane in her rise I could tell she didn’t see it how it hurt me I was 15 and asleep He was 16 and awake And somehow I blame myself It’s weird to tell people I still love him It’s weird to tell people I forgave It’s weird having to tell people it wasn’t my fault And it’s weird losing friends over it
Third time it was with my boyfriend again I wasn’t asleep I wasn’t a child I was scared He held me still I said no but he didn’t know I was serious Tears slipped out of my eyes I froze in terror I cried for hours afterwards I knew what it was, he knew what it was I blame myself. I told him no. No. No. No. Now I flinch when someone touches the back of my head I am wounded It’s weird to tell people it happened again It’s weird I still love him after all of it It’s weird to forgive again It’s weird
They were hundreds of times between Of men touching what they weren’t supposed to Of I’m making comments about me Coercing me Making me a part of their perversions Of believing flirting is ticket for their ****** harassment Of making me instinctively hate men. Victim blaming Degrading Sexualizing I am yet a woman It’s weird to not be a woman It’s weird to be a talking point It’s weird to be silenced It’s weird.
I put a mask on, I play the toughest of all, “Made of steel”, I repeat But when in action, I freeze My body freezes, My brain freezes, Motionless, I stare Into thin air, Waiting for this moment to be over, Because i no longer have the power