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Carlo C Gomez Jul 2020
The silver lining
of her otherwise fuchsia
underwear, was in its ability
to sense danger.

The gray area
of her otherwise rosy
lips, was in who they were
allowed to kiss.

The red alert
of her otherwise bronze
thighs, was for what attempted
to get between them.

The white elephant
in her otherwise beige
room, is what happened
to her prized possession.
EmB Apr 2020
His touch, forced and hungry,
still echoes on my skin.
I’d hoped to tattoo that space
with your name,
your warmth to drive away the pain
and claim my skin again.
But now I’m left to stare
at the empty space
where the traces of his name
sit on top of yours.
LK Mar 2020
I was fourteen,
a rebel and so naive,
my "boyfriend" broke up with me,
or at least I thought he was mine,
but that's a story for another time,
and then I met this guy,
my age, so popular and so my type!
we hung out at my house,
almost every nights,
he walked me from school,
I thought that was nice,
but outside my bedroom,
we turn into strangers.

One day he asked me out,
on a date..?
I thought maybe it wasn't too late,
maybe it was fate,
for me to trust again,
he told to meet him late,
so I dressed up nice,
wore my favorite jeans,
and blushed my cheeks,
nothing too revealing,
don't wanna be deceiving!

We went for a walk,
and...he took me to a hotel,
I should've left right there and then,
but I thought,
we were alone before,
he wouldn't do anything I don't consent for,
we went up to our room,
ordered some pizza and drank some *****,
and he paid for EVERYTHING!

One thing led to another,
I was wearing only his sweater,
too drunk to remember,
how he got on top of me,
why I couldn't push him off my body,
my hands on his chest,
but he's not moving his hands,
he kept kissing my neck,
I kept screaming STOP!
and NO, I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS!
SO WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?

He drowned down my voice,
nothing my mouth was able to say,
he told me it was okay,
that it'll feel great,
but I felt paralyzed and betrayed,
tears streaming down my face,
and I was afraid,
I couldn't keep it down,
while he pinned me down,
on the bed, my lips he's kissing,
but only to keep me from shouting,
not because he's so loving,
he was so close to finishing,

He screamed YES!
while I thought NO!
but thank god he pulled out,
and then he got mad,
why I didn't put in my mouth,
why I let his *** spread out,
on his sweater, he went to the bathroom,
and I sat on the bed,
I was all wet from his sweat,
I felt exposed,
and got filled with regret,
I wish I stayed home,
I wish we never met!

Four years went by,
and I'm still traumatized,
I'm eighteen,
and its summer after my senior year,
I'm hanging out with some friends,
and I'm at a hotel again,
but this time I know what could happen,
and I've taken precautions,
we hung out a couple of times,
and he said he wanted to see me one last time,
but surprisingly I was the first to arrive,
he said let's drink to **** some time,
until the others pass by,
I politely decline,
and I ask to sit outside,
on the balcony,
where it's safe and everyone can see us publicly.

He then poured my a glass of orange juice,
my vision got kinda hazy and my body got loose,
he picked me up from my chair,
and took me to the bedroom,
I didn't know what to do,
my mind was awake,
my body was at stake,
he placed me on my stomach where it aches,
and pulled down my shield...

... I don't know where to go from here,
or how to feel,
I'm almost nineteen,
and I still see them in my dreams,
and I still feel them breathe,
heavily against my body,
and I'm so very sorry,
for every girl who had to worry,
about an unwanted pregnancy,
because they acted so recklessly,
I stand by you during your journey,
and in front of all the jury,
with integrity,
to tell the whole world your story.

This is my story.
This is my story. I've been writing this poem for the past week. Talking about this was never easy for me and I finally decided to speak up and I encourage everyone who went through an experience like mine to speak up. My story might be long but it is worth reading. So please take the time to read it till the end. If anyone feels like sharing with me I would love to talk privately.
amy Mar 2020
we paint our faces
stick scars to our skin
laughter dances around the room
nerves make an appearance from within

smoke machine switches on
smoke creeps around our ankles
music deafening us
lights blinding my friends

no sight
no hearing
no awareness
of the twists and turns this night takes

she’s bleeding tonight
it’s noticed but is unimportant
she resembles a statue
enduring the raid of her body

in her peripheral is the door
fleeing to an exit is not a choice
observing the intrusion  
aching for conclusion

surveyed until she is out of sight
silenced until alone
but at this point
she has turned to stone

words are tucked inside
safe from vulnerability
all she can release
are cries
cries which start to cease

and with arms wrapped around her
she will never be the same
only a shell of a person
trying not to accept the blame
Gray Dawson Mar 2020
I'm a cannibal, consuming the flesh of my past
Taking back what was once attached
I'm not going to be the submissive, quiet kid I used to be
I've grown and I'm stronger now, you can't control me

I'm not a victim of your stupidity to get a laugh and some masculinity
I've been busy, and I'm not looking for sympathy
Your hands will never touch me again
You will not get under my skin

I hear things are going well for you, Joey
But your mom and her protection can't stop you from growing lonely
The more people you hurt, the worse it gets for you
That guilt will one day run you through

Tyler, you were always way too protected, with your mom being a teacher at school
And you always thought you were so cool with your copy of the schools keys, you used to "rule"
I could never seem to escape you, but now you are on your own
And you should have known that someday someone would pull the rug out from under your throne

You were so mighty, Nick, with a mom to go handle all your problems
And you certainly took advantage when you were filled with all that self-importance
And when your mom asked where you were, you lied and said it was my fault
Because I just really wanted to add to my list of tramua's ****** assualt

I wasn't cute, I wasn't charming, I wasn't overly girly, but I was weak and "easy"
Of course it's easy to overpower someone if you are big and sneaky
I never had someone to protect me, like Nick, Tyler, and Joey's moms
And I never had someone who'd believe me when I finally took down my walls

I was always different from the other kids, and family wasn't going to help
Who would believe me, over a popular straight A student; for me it was a dead end
No one believes me, I am not good enough, not important enough, to be given attention
But I won't stop working, trying to prove myself, until I am seen as good enough, without question

I am not anyone's plaything anymore, I am my own person
I am not an outlet for your sick *******
I am a being with thoughts and I'm not as easy to control as I used to be
I will bring you down with me
SoVi Feb 2020
Take me to the
Back row
Back room
Back door

Touch me
Where I said no
Pretend and act
Like you don't know

That these
Tears
Aches
Cries
Are from you



© Sofia Villagrana 2020
emi Feb 2020
I struggle to click the keys, watching the cursor blink. Everything in me feels heavy. I feel you crawling around inside my bones. I've asked you to leave hundreds of times. But you stay in my head and ignore my wishes. You ruined another good day. I feel myself trying to reject you from my thoughts, but the more I try the more I think about it. I feel myself tense. I feel my body grow tired. I don't wanna fight. I don't wanna think. I don't want it. I don't want you. I find it kind of ironic that it's been a decade and we still play that game- where you don't know. You don't know about that one day. I'm stuck here picking up the pieces you dropped since then. *******. I wish you knew how much pain you cause. You were supposed to hug all my pain away, but this pain you created can't be tamed.
yet another letter to my brother
julianne dial Feb 2020
i have stopped bringing roses to the grave of the girl i used to be
i burnt the clothes i was taken in.
this takes up so much space inside of me
and this air is the only place i can let this trauma live outside of my body
i am now afraid to wear my recovery too publicly
because it was the only witness
i didn’t want to write a statement or file a report
i just wanted to take a shower

i just wanted to take a shower
soon after my applause of ‘victory’ my voice was hushed
i have noticed people stopped calling me victim and only started calling me survivor
when i stopped talking about it
i was questioned over and over again because after years i slowly began to be comfortable with the thought of a free voice,
a voice of my own
i took notes on which ways to pronounce ‘****’ without having other people be bothered
they ask for proof as if my eyes were security tapes
and when the footage is lost he is innocent until proven guilty
but so am i

yeah maybe i’m crazy.
maybe i’m crazy to see a world in which my healing is not brought along with an eraser
but i am not ******, i was treated in a psych unit because of what was done to me

i will not be interrupted.
i will not be spoken over.
i will not become someone i’m not just to please the ones who look over my shoulder and start giving suggestions.
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