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Kyra 4d
I was sexually abused.
It wasn't my fault.
It will never be my fault.
I don't have to carry this weight.
mars Jan 31
If they don’t believe you
they don’t deserve to
be apart of your story.

You shouldn’t have to explain
yourself.
mars Jan 28
The flowered bed sheets of the motel where we lay
he showed no mercy on the Atlantic coast
used me again and kissed me.

I only remembered the oceans roll
and the visions of a unshaved beard,
the feeling of dread when he locked the door and unzipped his jeans.

Sandcastle fell over
and the sharks swam away
watching the walkway from the motel bedroom,
waiting for him to come back an let me out.

This is a ****** of a child's innocence and he held it over the seas the shadow of my life changes into bone
until my ****** becomes a whole other being,
so powerful it gave me an STD at the age of 11.
Thoughts are doubled in my head and the dark air has no name.

I call out for who may be there but nobody answers, only the step-step-stepping of my uncle coming in the motel for more.
Lila Timberwolf Dec 2018
I was young. A girl of just 13 when my life was taken away from me.
He was a leader to me and someone I trusted deeply. But when doors were closed and rooms were dark, he was a demon.
He took little pieces of me away. My sanity, my trust, my everything.
No one knew what he was doing but neither did I. I was young and naive. Always trusting someone.
All I could do was feel trapped as he touched my innocent tiny body. Touched all the parts that he shouldn't have. Parts that were mine and mine only.
I felt trapped and suffocated over the months it accured. I felt more and more disturbed and felt like this wasn't right.
My mother told me to say out loud if things like this happened.
But I couldn't.
I would disappoint her. So I lashed out at him. It was sudden anger and trapping myself in my room for him to stay away. Countless knifes littered my room if he ever forced himself on me.
That little girl disappeared with his hands.
And to this day he is still in the family. The demon I am forced to consider my father.
No one knows.
Not that I would ever tell them.
Allison Wonder Nov 2018
The lights dim and a curtain's drawn,
A quiet theater as the show begins.
It's the same reel playing on repeat,
A shattered heart broken from sin.

He lies next to her as he'd always done,
Reliving his day through adventurous stories.
But something about him had changed that night,
The girl became something he had to seize.

A kiss of the lips catches her off guard,
"I'm sorry" escapes from under his breath.
Her chest so tight no response can form,
What comes next will surely be her death.

One hand on her side and he pulls her close,
Another kiss as he poisons her lips.
She can feel his excitement begin to rise,
He slide his leg up to part her hips.

Interlocked now she's trapped beneath him,
The weight crashing down on her soul.
A rhythm forms while his body presses in,
Her own feelings are now out of control.

The heat grows and a pulsing begins,
Something she had never felt before.
A feeling one should be allowed to enjoy,
Instead she feels like a ***** *****.

He leaves her lying there confused,
An evil grin creeps upon his face.
Where once before a bulge began,
A wet spot had formed to take its place.

No apologies now as he shuts the door,
Alone in her bed she begins to shake.
The man she thought she could look up to,
Had become the one to make her break.

And on this scene she now feels stuck,
Burning a hole through her mind like tape.
A scene no one will choose to believe,
Because it was never actually ****.
Allison Wonder © 2018
Semicolon Sep 2018
The dark silently crawled into the dimly lit corridors, the cabins, and my boss's ***** mind.
The cold breeze gently and mercilessly caressed my shoulders, and my boss my *******.
I shivered from my head till toe, while his greedy gaze scanned me, from my head till toe.
The off-key beeping of a distant computer troubled my ears, and so did his hungry voice.
My incomplete files presented a pretty sight in front of his hands piercing through my self esteem.
Per his routine, he'd played all what he wanted with my body, and left it there to perish.
Next day in the meeting he tells his employees, "this office is your temple."
"Sure," I whisper.
"There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds."
-Laurell K. Hamilton

©Semicolon
Parker Poole Jun 2018
i haven't been able to sleep quite right
the nightmares are keeping me up at night
again
12 years ago, i was molested
4 years ago, i was *****
a year ago, i was ***** by someone different
i've been asked why i've been putting myself in these situations
i protest, always
"i'm not! i swear!"
but as i hear their words, telling me it's all my fault
i come to the realization that
maybe it is
maybe its the way i dress, or the way i trusted too easily
i'm trying to keep strong
but i've been making a mess of the bed each night
i try to remember i'm loved as my lover holds me tight
but all i can remember is his rough hands shoving my body down
closing my eyes and trying not to let myself drown
all i can remember is my own flesh and blood
telling me to do things no five year old should
and i've been having trouble sleeping in my own bed
and i wanna tell someone but i put it all on paper instead
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