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I dream so vividly
That reality forgets where its edges lay
And the physical sensation
Lingers on my skin.
I was not designed to be an object,
And yet a man I once loved
Tried to claim me as such,
Like my body was his
And nothing more than a carbon mass
Whose blood did not run red in my veins.
I am more than the nickname on his tongue
And the doll for *** he made me,
Not a toy to be ripped apart
Into plastic pieces,
Until all I owned was my name.
My body and mind were not free real estate
For him to occupy rent free.
I am not a parking lot for the dumpster fire
Of his problems.
I exist in this world to own myself above all else.
This girl is not an object.
I did not deserve to have my body taken from me.
Welcome to the club.
The "Should've stayed home" club.
The "I'll never be safe" club.  
The "I tried to say 'no!'" club.
The "He refused to stop" club.
The "I froze and went limp" club.
The "I'll never be the same" club.
The "There's no handbook for being *****" club.
It was not your fault.
You're safe now.
I am so sorry you're here.
The world warps
And goes fuzzy around the edges
Like I am not real,
A place holder or chest piece.
My limbs do not move like they are mine,
As if they are foreign bodies attached to my trunk.
The floor is the only solace.
I melt into the stiff boards and rough carpet
Until the world tilts back and becomes
Whole again.
Let's be clear,
Compassion is not a kind of currency.
****** favors are not a type of contract.
The pictures he received were not consent.
My outfit is not an open invitation,
And there's no justification for what he did.
The price of being alive
Is coping with the memories of what I nearly
Didn't survive.
There is no sanity in inhumanity,
No reason to reprehensible.
I should stop looking for answers
Were there were never any to begin with.
I was frozen to the bed
When he reached inside me
With his hands and his staff
And stole something from me.
Yes, I was bleeding,
But he did not draw his knife.
It was fear that kept me immobilized.
His act, perpetretrated while I was mentally tied,
Has taken my ability to feel safe in my own body.
It has ruined dark corners and altered my mornings,
Left me feeling vulnerable and torn shreds through my psyche.
The **** of a partner ruined all intimacy.
His crime was not one of sheer physical brutality,
But an act of Mental Violence
That has forever altered me.
He should take care not to sunburn,
For he can no longer steal my skin.
There is thunder in my bones where you lay.
Your memories dissolve like salt into a wound.
To this day,
If anyone calls me 'Red,'
I will rain down like the storm cloud you always hoped I wasn't.
My collective tears will burst from the dam
Until not a spot on your soul is dry.
I will tear out the tendons, remove the connective tissues.
You wanted to make me yours,
To erase the personhood until I was pliable for your will.
To some extent, you succeeded.
Your memories are stored in my body, trauma.
The bleeding is internal, is not visible, is just as deadly,
But I have staunched the flow.
There is thunder where you lay in my bones,
Lightning where you touched me.
I am tearing you away tendril by sticky tendril.
I hope you feel the sting inside you.
This girl is not your object.
This girl is a hurricane.
This girl is the end of your world.
There are words for what you did,
****** assault, ****,
But they are not sufficient for the way
My psyche floated out of my skin.
You counted on the scars keeping me bound,
But you had only started the storm.
I am a thundercloud, a lightning goddess,
Made from the sun, wind, and ocean.
You called me 'Red' like my hair,
But I am 'Red' like my temper, like fire.
Try me once more, and I will teach you not to play games
With young girls.
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