my blood is on his hands, but oh, he got away! "he's a thief! he's a thief!" i cry as he runs into the distance with my innocence in a bag thrown over his shoulder i scream and shrill "there's not enough evidence," they said but my blood! oh, my blood! it's on his hands!
i want to douse him in gasoline and throw matches on him i will laugh and smile while he screams
what he did two or so years ago it has messed me up oh, yes it has i see no worth in my body i see an object a doll
i've fetishized my own fear oh, god i want to fear you make me afraid, afraid, afraid because that's how *** is supposed to be right? right? right? i'm not supposed to like it i'm supposed to be in pain right?
i've fetishized my own fear that stockholm-syndrome feeling it wraps its hands around my throat take my breath i want to black out i want to black out
am i ok? am i ok? am i ok? my brain has blended lust and fear they are the same i have fetishized my fear
you were so careful not to leave bruises you knew exactly what you were doing so careful not to leave a mark but so insistent on handling me roughly and reducing me to nothing you called me such horrible things that day “****,” you said “*****,” you said despite the fact that you forced your grimy hands on me you FORCED me to do EVERYTHING ******* I HATE YOU
my fault “well, what were you wearing?” my fault “did you not fight back?” my fault “you should have screamed" my fault "why did you wait to tell anyone?" my fault "it just means he thought you were pretty" my fault my fault my fault my fault my fault YOUR FAULT.
god, ******* i ******* despise you pure ****. **** of the ******* earth. do you understand? will you ever understand? the longevity of the pain that you've inflicted on me? when you put your filthy unwelcomed hands on me i want to tear away the flesh and skin where you gripped me
un-*******-forgettable in the most disgusting way a human could possibly fathom