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NAL Jan 22
It was so long ago, but as soon as the dreams
or flashbacks enter; it's her reality once again.
Dropping to the floor, she begins to cry silently
at first...until she begins to scream at the walls again.
Huddled against the bath floor, she no longer felt
the comfort or protection of the hot air nor the
warm water that beaded her body behind the curtain.
Crawling into the fetal position in her bed, she covers both
palms against her mouth as she cries and screams silently.
His hands are back under her waistband; caressing her skin
with his rough hands. She begins to shake as she feels his
breathing on her neck as if she was there in bed with him again.
The shower is no longer comforting but reminds her how
vulnerable she is. As she curses and pleas for whys and hows;
another flashback hits her. The pool is where he grabbed her,
touching her mound and even thrusting himself against her;
but she can't do anything; she's still. Thrashing in her bed,
she struggles to contain the sobs that emit as she sits up in her bed.
Next, she's in the classroom where who she thought was her friend
slipped a hand down her shorts in the darkroom, but she pushes him
back and tears slip out of her eyes as she moves away from him.
As she stands in her towel staring at her bloodshot eyes in the mirror,
she almost snarls at herself; "But you let it happen; it's your fault."
As if her reflection was another person, she breaks into fits of cries again,
"I didn't want it and they did an-"
She opens her eyes to wake up to her room; alone.
She didn't feel anything but disgust as she got up, heading
straight to the bathroom for another shower.
As she starts it and begins to strip, she stares at herself in the mirror,
frowning in disgust at her body that people seemed to want to take
advantage of; even when she wasn't of age. She was barely even a woman.
As she climbs into the shower, she sits in the floor with her face
in her hands with the question that she's been asking since she was barely eleven: Why? Why? Why?! Why?! Why! Why Me!
Night terrors and a small form of PTSD plagues her life of male hands that have grabbed her
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
I didn't like the way you glanced,
I didn't like the way you gazed,
l didn't like the way you whispered to
the other man's ear.

I didn't like the comments you made,
I didn't like the vibe you were giving my way,
I didn't like the way you smiled.

But you didn't care
that I didn't like.
You didn't care, who I was.
You just didn't care,
because you stepped close anyways
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Shut mouth,
mute voice,
bruised mind,
scarred body,
fearful heart,
invaded privacy,
numb skin,
tear welling eyes
and invalid soul.
This is what you made
me feel by just one touch.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
For a very long time,
I wondered what was my mistake?
Why me?
What did I do to deserve it?
Did I attract you?
because I never meant to.

But now I realise,
It didn't matter
who I was,
where I was,
what I wore.

Because the person to blame
wasn't me, but you all along.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
You stripped my self worth,
dragged me into an ocean of fear,
left me feeling impure and touched.

I wish I could feel
innocent and pure once more.
I wish I could shed
this skin along with my past away.
The Vault Jun 2019
No matter what i do the nightmares come back of what happened in 2013.
I didnt say anything.  
Held it a secret that hurt my heart.  
I am guilty and upset but it wasnt my fault.
Right?  
Even if taken to law.  
You will get away with it
My word against yours
And years of difference of what you scarred me with.
A Simillacrum Apr 2019
Had a thicc fog,
had a dark bog
and its bad, bad
presence, manifest
and ****** me.

Here I thought it left me.

I think leaves me over,
over and over, again.

Had its tendrils
fill the holes full,
fill me with hope,
pull out suddenly
and depress me.

I thought it came for me,

turns out it does leave,
turns out it leaves,

most likely, when I need it.

So,
Bright Beam,
I offer you refuge,
I offer you         my bad blood,
If you'll only do
What I need done
I offer you         my ill love,
I offer you deluge,
Bright Beam,
So,

Please,
Fill me up.
mars Jan 2019
With our heads over the starboard of the boat trip we took taunting tropical storm Fay on the port and our dresses in the wind.
He watched from the captain's chair, pistol in his hand. Salty seas hinder our vision of the man in the watchtower turning him into a blur on the vast expanse of grey skies and rotting wet wood.  

Angry crew-children with their bodies touched, banging on the stained glass door to his room where the little girl looks through the marbled blue with tears on her cheeks. Laughing at the confrontation, sent back to work.

Gathering lobster and lost time, both of them scream in the boiling ***. Escaped breath from incestuious embraces return to lungs and we find out that we can scream too, the boiling *** is overturned dripping off the starboard where we stand.

Lightning bolt touches the flag above his head causing chemical reactions to develop into a spark. Flames at the back engulf the wheel the children blister their hands grasping onto the lines as Fay rolls through, lightning after thunder rain never ending. Chaos perspiring on the ship he calls the battalion to secuestrar the children.

The battalion is overturned at the punch, bruise left on grey skin. Captain blubbering with lies the fire heat on his back. Rotting wood is burning, we cover our noses with bandanas and letters marked for Groton. The tide rises waves overtake the port, splashing onto the starboard where the victims jump into the black water uncertainty chilling them.

Swimming to Key West with the dolphins on our back the fiery ship burns in the distance the captain tied to a chair of ******* and lines untouched, denying allegations until his heart is charcoal and all that's left is a charred body smelling of ****** and aftershave. The starboard side is empty causing imbalance to the ship.

Dripping tears and sea water, walking through the streets, we lower our bandanas and hold the letters close to our hearts. Searching for the sun that will lead us home.
She Writes Mar 2018
**** doesn’t always hide
At parties and outside clubs
**** doesn’t always hide
In dark alleys and empty parking lots
Sometimes it is right in front of you
But you choose to look the other way
**** doesn’t always hide
Behind the faces of strangers in the night
Sometimes it is hiding behind the closed doors
Of your uncles
Cousins
Fathers
And brothers
**** isn’t always loud-
Screaming, yelling, and crying
Sometimes **** is quiet-
Gasping for air and silent tears
She Writes Nov 2017
Something felt wrong
I told you no
But you were so strong
I had no choice

I was only five years old
When all this began
How could you be so cold
You were supposed to protect me

Let’s play a game; hide and seek
I was to hide
I wasn’t to speak
You always found me

Hunted me like prey
Ripped off my clothes
As I began to pray
Clenching my eyes

Singing songs in my brain
Keeping my mouth shut
Pretending not to feel any pain
To scared to do anything more

For years you abused me
Until one day you were caught
I was finally free
Or so I thought

The memories of what you’ve done
Haunt me every time darkness replaces the sun
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