"This isn't fun anymore"
come on baby let me just finish
"I don't want to"
I tried to push him away but
wait babe I'm not done
he was heavy and everything hurt
"Stop I'm done, stop"
and he had me drunk and high
I didn't know where I was
"I'm done it isn't fun anymore"
or who he was
wait just- I'm hitting it good right?
It was all I could do not to cry
just shut down and wait it out
but I couldn't close my eyes
because the smoke he gave me
was laced in something
"Can't we be done? I wanna leave"
ahhhh there we go
Now I was
and sick
"Take me back to my stuff"
*I hit it good, right?"
He didn't deserve an answer
So the tears rolled hot and
down my face

stop, please.

Angels laugh,
At my suffering.
My body is no temple,
And when you touch me
They are entranced
My silent sobbing
Is the music,
That falls in the back
Of their Sunday evening soap.
At least I'm entertaining.

Even though I don't remember the next morning
I know it reaked of violation and filth
The taste of my own tears lingered
Until the next day mid afternoon
Right before the sunset
Right after everyone let me be
If only for a moment

The morning after
When I woke up to a hostile sun
I screamed until my lungs were dry
And cried until my tears covered the kitchen linoleum
I ruined a new pair of clothes
And ripped out a few dozen stands of hair
Just because your fingers may have grazed them

In the shower I boiled the skin off my back
And tried to breathe water
Just to get the taste of you
Out of my eyes
I must've washed you off of me
At least a dozen times over
But I couldn't rinse the space behind my eyes
Where you left the most of yourself
Invasive and volatile

I had to tell my daddy
What happened to his baby girl
And watch him ache to break down your door
And straight into your chest
To take your heart
As some sort of payment
For what you've done
I watched my mother cry
And my sister cry
With pain that was never theirs to carry

And so each morning I wake up
To the memory of what you did
When I had just been out for a little fun
With sweet drinks that didn't taste like poison
Until you made them that way
When you touched me
When you had no right to do so
And I wonder if there's anything that I could have done differently

Since then every day
You rape me again
When I can't look someone in the eyes
Because I don't want to see their pity
Or their judgement, their doubt
When I'm scrutinized in the streets
Or my name is whispered
Behind a closed door
Or is screamed in my face that it was my fault
That it isn't an excuse

I'd rather die than face it
But I fear for my daughter
So I stay
To watch her
Protect her from my own fate
And shake quietly when I'm alone at night
Knowing you're loose
Waiting for someone to bring me some justice
To put you away
Leave you lying in a shallow grave
Anything to give me security again

But I have none
Because I have been robbed
And I smile to counteract it
And everyone tip-toes around the subject
Like it's a sleeping bear
That will maul them if they stir it up
But it's not an animal
It's something that happened to me
And everyone is so afraid of it

I had to be strong
But I'm afraid too
Afraid that it might never scab over
And become a scar
Because scars fade
But wounds bleed
And I am wounded
And every morning in the shower the blood drips from my ears
And leaks down the drain
When I have to look at MY body
That YOU used
And try to remember that I am strong
And that you haven't beaten me
Then wonder if that's really true

I have to make it true.

Written for a friend I wish I hadn't had to write it for.
Just Me Apr 18

Last night I had a nightmare.
I was back in that home.
I was afraid to leave.
All I wanted to do was signal my kids to go to the car...
But they were so small.
I swore they could feel my fear.
The danger in the home, but I must have been wrong.
Since they are ok, it's best they were spared the trauma.
These nightmares are mine.
Nobody knows the extent of damage I've been inflicted.
No one knows how many time's my body had been taken from me as I weeped.
No one knows how many time's I've been cornered, and silenced.
No one knows how many times I tried to escape.
Nobody knows, not even me.
Now it's just a nightmare that wakes me with my heart beating, my body sweating, and tears falling.
Now I turn the tv on and try to change my thoughts.
I'm no longer his victim, or the man before him.
I don't have to worry about my body being taken or abused by angry hands.
I don't fear for my life, or the life of my children.
But now, I'm harder to know.
I'm harder to love.
Now I am strong...
And I'm left with thoughts and reactions of a woman who has survived.
The ptsd wasn't only from him.
But this nightmare was a gift he left behind.
I'm so fortunate to not just be living a better life with a better man, but because sometimes I can forget.
Sometimes I get to forget my whole past.
I can't believe how strong the abuse holds on to me.
My heart pounds still.
And I know I don't need to be, because he's in my past, but I'm afraid as if I have only been free a day.
These nightmares are as sneaky and powerful as he used to be.
But they are only nightmares.
And he holds no power over me...

I still can't fall asleep
Natasha L Apr 18

I often find myself asking the question: what did you have to gain by causing me so much pain?

I was blacked out and unconscious from an overindulgent 21st birthday,
And you messed up my mind, body, and soul in the worst way

I trusted you and considered you a friend,
But that’s not where you wanted it to end

That night, you did far more than cross a line,
You forced your body to intertwine with mine

Today marks 18 months since you raped me,
And no length of time or amount of therapy could ever set me free

I just realized today that it has been 18 months to the day since I was raped. The pain, depression, and anxiety has become so overwhelming. Being raped changes you in the worst way.
Natasha L Apr 18

If sober enough, coherent enough, strong enough I could have fought or yelled out; I would not have allowed that to happen.
If decent enough, human enough, controlled enough,
would he?

Natasha L Apr 18

Smells, forever influenced by the unwanted scent of you.
I still smell it sometimes, when I pass someone who has the same (unfortunate) taste in cologne as you do

Grocery aisle 13 for baking needs, I’m almost at the spice section.
There’s a brunette man 10 steps in front of me, it is clearly not you.
I am a couple steps past him now, my face flushes, heart beat races, palms sweat, fear running rampant through my veins.
He smells of you, and my body has an instant reaction: Fight or Flight.
I keep walking towards the spices, but I need to look back and make sure.
I need to check that it is not you. I need to know for certain.
I know it’s not, he was brunette and you are blonde, I keep telling myself, but this thought is relentless.
I give in, turn around to check, and it’s not you. He’s brunette, older. I knew that, but my body didn’t.  
My body didn’t because it was tricked by the smell of you on him.
Like the smell of you on me. The smell of you on my sheets.

That one smell triggered a memory.
A memory of you on me, in me.
Fade in.
Now it floods back. Not just the smells, now what I saw, felt, heard, tasted.
Smell: your cologne mixed with your sweat and the alcohol on your breath
See: you on top of me in the red/orange glow of my Himalayan salt lamp in my dark room
Feel: the air on my exposed skin. the sheets on my naked body. your breath grazing my ear with each thrust. your body on top of mine, you inside of me, spreading my legs wide open.
Hear: you breathing heavily, grunting occasionally
Taste: the alcohol on my breath
Fade out.

V Anne Apr 17

I am a part of a
tiny yet large
silence yet surfacing

We feel the same pain.
We feel the same anger.

It bubbles and bursts
an overflow.
We ask
“What is wrong with us?”
“What did we do to make this happen?”

And the answer
is nothing.

We are brave souls
seeking a glimpse
of shinning light

In an electric storm.
a commotion so wild
it makes us shiver.
It makes us burn.

We are utterly conflicted
and utterly confused

But we are making noise.
Titans fighting angst
our own mythological breasts.

But these monsters are real
and they are among us

So we cannot remain silent.
We must find our own unique

And that voice will swell
and soar
and climb to new heights.

We are eagles.

Furiously screaming
across the sky.

And you should bow
in awe of our

Marinela Abarca Apr 17


I once knew this girl
Whose name, I cannot recall
Who she was, I was not so sure
But I knew of the tale that made her clocks stall

Walking home that night
The moon on its rising was a beautiful sight
It was particularly bright
Even more when the candles were blown on the street lamp lights

Suddenly its pearl luminescence
turned into a vicious shade of scarlet
I could not make sense of what
was going to happen.

Her arms are spread at her sides like birds' wings high up in the air.
How I wish they were
So she could have escaped the man pinning her down to the ground, telling her not to make any sound.
To his grasp, her strength is bound.
I hear her heartbeats falter with every pound.
The darkness fall over her like a shroud.

In his eyes, I saw a face.
A girl mirrored in the windows of a soul, disgraced.
Suddenly I remembered.
I am her.

His breaths, the sound of his pleasure.
Mine, the cacophony of torture.
He swallowed my screams
like a fine aged bouquet.
He fucking took the light of day, put it into his eyes where I was blinded by the fires that swallowed my vision.
I looked on like I was a spectator in a dream.
My feet lay in one place.
So this is what it feels to be paralyzed
Oh how I wish I could fly

His eyes were void of the abyss of humanity.
Is it a question of sanity?
I would like to think it was
so I would not place the blame on me.

Did I ask for it?
Did I had one too many drinks?
Did I wear the wrong clothes, are they much too skimpy?
Did I choose the wrong time to go out, I should have known it was risky.
Did I even think?
Did I say too much for him to think that I wanted him inside of me ripping skin over and over?
"Be quiet." He growled in my ear
And I obeyed that order
For years and years

My soul, ripped out of its sheltered purity.
My life, polluted with warped imagery of beauty.
My body, never again felt like my property.

As I look at the animal that he is rightfully trapped in his cage,
I felt a twinge of jealousy
for he will be free of his prison, the only thing lost is his age.
As for me, I will never escape the bars guarding my heart.
I will never find a fresh new start.

My words of dissent will always come out as a gust of air just like it did that night.
And now I see a finished sentence.
These words rotting in my throat should be let go of
and it materializes in the form of a question:
When are we going to learn that no simply means NO?

Amulet Atari Apr 17

White lace,
represents purity.
I never valued it,
Until you took your scissors
And cut the delicate fabric
To shreds.
I wish I was given the choice,
Because now
I don't have enough left,
To make a wedding dress.

I'm afraid that you've ruined my value
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